


Closed Captioning

by TheOfficialCanadianTeabag



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: American Sign Language, Deaf Character, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, a few good book spoilers, cute!hopeful!Viktor, deaf!writer!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15570738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOfficialCanadianTeabag/pseuds/TheOfficialCanadianTeabag
Summary: Jobless and lazy Viktor's in love with a deaf author who doesn't know he exists. Then he meets sweet, mysterious Yuuri, and his whole world is turned upside down. Some things that go unnoticed by the ears don't go unnoticed by the heart.





	1. think before you speak

**Author's Note:**

> Yo!  
> This thing's gonna be exactly 10 chapters, and I'll update every other day or so. Hope you enjoy!

**ACT 1**

_ think before you speak _

* * *

_ ‘Henry pushed Olivia’s kinky blonde hair over her shoulder, each strand lingering and weaving through his fingers like the silkiest of fibers. He felt her warmth radiating off her even through the chill of the rain, pelting them both as they stood under the temperamental storm. He lifted his hand and caressed her golden cheek with the backs of his fingers, feeling every curve, every texture, every inch of the warm flush decorating her sweetly round face. _

_ She clutched his fingers and wept softly, and even through the curtain of droplets, Henry saw the tears dripping off her chin. When she spoke it sliced through his heart like a hot knife through butter. _

_ “Don’t go,” she whispered; she pleaded and his heart splintered into a hairline fracture. _

_ He stroked the skin around her lips with his thumb. “Olivia.” _

_ She shut her sea-green eyes, her chin trembling. “Don’t leave me, Henry.”  _

_ “Olivia,” he said softly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” _

_ “Henry…” Her sunlight head dropped against his chest. “When will I see you again?” _

_ Henry enclosed her in his arms, drawing her into his chest tightly, feeling her warm, supple body even against the thickness of his jacket. Her hair tickled his nose and the scent of simply her wafted up and imprinted in his brain. “Just know that we will meet again one day.” _

_ “Henry—” she gasped, her voice laced with panic. _

_ Henry shushed her gently, his fingers rubbing her shoulders, her back, her waist. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He knew he had to be strong for her, but even Atlas himself grew weak knees around the woman of his dreams. He checked his watch. Time to go. “Don’t forget me,” he murmured low in her ear. _

_ “I won’t,” she whispered. “Never. Come back to me, Henry. I love you.” _

_ His rough, calloused fingers tilted her face up to his. “I will. I promise. I love you, Olivia.” His mouth covered hers over and over until he could kiss her no more.’  _

“Viktor, you’ve read that hundreds of times already,” Chris said. “And cried each and every time. It’s a good book, but give it a rest, will you?”

A long, high-pitched whine escaped Viktor’s throat from his place on Chris’ couch. “But  _ Chris, _ ” he moaned. “It’s so romantiiiic. And saaad. I love it so muuuch.” He will forever be indebted to his friend Georgi for introducing this novel to him those years ago, for he has yet to set it down and move onto something else. It’s not like he fell in love with it on  _ purpose,  _ so it’s not his  _ fault _ he got obsessed with both the story and the author. But Chris would never understand.

Chris pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his slender nose and smiled slightly behind his laptop. “Everybody knows how much you love it, Viktor.”

“Henry has to leave Olivia because he has to take the place of his brother in the war,” Viktor whimpered. “even though he had to fight tooth and nail just to  _ get _ to Olivia in the first place, now this war he’s participating in is going to tear them apart and they just found each other like only a  _ month _ ago oh my  _ god _ Chris do you not comprehend how  _ awful _ that is? But he still managed to get to her because he loves her, Chris, oh  _ god _ , I’m tearing up.”

“Drama queen."

Viktor scoffed, hugging his hardcover book to his chest. “Right,  _ I’m _ the drama queen.” He sighed wistfully and leaned his head back against the arm of the couch, his platinum locks falling out of his face. “Chris, it’s been two years since this book came out and Kamata Yukiko  _ still _ hasn’t finished part three, as far as I know. What’s taking her so long?”

“Maybe she’s bus _ — _ ”

“Maybe she’s having trouble deciding how to end the series. Or she’s planning on killing off Henry,” gasped Viktor. “Chris, do you have any idea how much that’s going to affect the rest of the story? That means Olivia’s parents aren’t going to go through with helping Henry’s family immigrate to a safer country since he’s not even going to be around. He still has to stay and love Olivia or else she’s going to get married off to another guy!” 

“I thought they were already married.”

“They are! But nobody knows except them! They were never going to tell anyone because they knew they’d be separated! Chris I’m going to die I’m literally going to die this is seriously killing me and I need to know how this is going to end.”

“Mm,” Chris hummed noncommittally and rested his chin on his fist. “That’s nice.”

“You’re not listening.” The audacity of this man. 

“Because I’ve heard this a thousand times already. Look, Vitya _ — _ ” Chris took off his glasses and set them on the table, rubbing his face. “I love hearing you so passionate about literature, but have you been checking the classifieds lately?”

Viktor sat up and slowly hugged his knees to his chest, setting aside his book for now. “Uh…”

“You see, that’s the problem. You’re unmotivated,” Chris said, and Viktor watched his long lashes fall against his cheek as he shut his eyes briefly. “Please start looking for a job soon, Viktor. I can’t support you forever, you know.”

“I know,” Viktor mumbled. “I know. It’s just that _ — _ I feel as though I would be motivated if I had another one of Yukiko’s books to read.”

Chris groaned. “Oh, Viktor.”

“And…” Viktor inhaled guiltily. “Chris, I have something to confess.”

“Go on…”

“When I told you I was going to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I was actually going to a class. A language class. I’ve been learning ASL for the past three years.”

Chris slowly lifted his head, furrowed his brows, and gave Viktor an incredulous look. _“_ _ What? ” _

“ASL,” Viktor said simply. “Because she’s deaf.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Viktor squirmed. “I thought you were going to judge me if I told you.”

Chris sighed  _ heavily. _ “I wasn’t going to judge you. You should have just told me.”

Viktor picked at his nails absently. “Well…”

“Okay. Honestly? I think that’s great. That’s great, but—” Chris rubbed his face again. “Viktor...I thought you said she’s Japanese. Then she wouldn’t speak ASL. She’d speak JSL _. _ ”

“She’s been living in the US since she was twelve. I’m pretty sure she speaks both. I thought I told you that already.” Viktor shrugged. “You know I would absolutely love to meet her one day if I could. So I took up ASL just in case.”

“Just in case  _ what? _ Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” Chris shut his laptop down and closed it, pushing himself up from his seat at the kitchen table, still rubbing his face. “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late, and find a job. Really,” he sighed, and padded to his room.

Viktor let out a long-suffering sigh and moved into his room, the guest room, and plopped on the bed. A job. Right. 

_ Right. _

* * *

“Look at this,” Chris said one day, tossing the newspaper in front of Viktor’s breakfast.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Look at what?”

“This.” Chris pointed to an ad. “A job.”

“Hmm,” Viktor said, and sipped his coffee.

“A dog-walker,” Chris said. “Somebody’s looking for a dog-walker.”

“Wonderful,” Viktor said. 

“You like dogs. You have a dog.”

“Not at the moment. Until I move out of here, Mila’s his owner.”

“Whatever. You used to walk him. You know dog things. Dogs like you. So why not?”

“And, what, get ten bucks an hour?”

“Better than getting  _ zero _ bucks an hour,” Chris pointed out. He tapped the ad. “Check it out. This person says to email them.  _ And— _ ” Chris smiled gently. 

“What?”

“Keep reading.”

Viktor kept reading. 

Chris sighed. “They’re deaf.”

“What?” Viktor attempted to scan the rest of the ad as quick as his eyes could muster. “No way.”

“Yes way.” Chris smiled again.

“Shut up,” Viktor said. His stomach did an excited flip. “Shut.  _ Up _ . Chris—“ He felt a grin slip up onto his lips so big and so wide he could hardly restrain himself from bouncing up and down. “This is so  _ exciting!  _ Finding a job I can actually be good at! I can actually use my skills— _ Chris,  _ they weren’t useless after all!” 

“Yes, I kn—”

“If I take this opportunity, I can show the deaf community that I care! It’ll be in Yukiko’s name, of course.” He pretended to sob and wipe a tear. “She’d be so moved…” 

Chris rolled his eyes but nodded in approval. “I guess you pining after some deaf Japanese woman paid off.” 

“Right,” Viktor said. In actuality he did like the idea, working for a deaf dog-lover. 

“Email him,” Chris said.

“Fine, fine,” Viktor said. “Let me eat my cereal first.”

* * *

**To:** yu_k236@somedomain.com

**From:** viknikifrv@someotherdomain.com

**Subject:** Re: Dog-walker

 

Hello!

My name is Viktor Nikiforov. I saw your ad about needing a dog-walker and I would love to sign up for this position if the spot is still available. I love all kinds of dogs and I think I’d be perfect for this job. I read that you’re deaf and I just wanted to say I have 3 years so far of experience speaking ASL! Excited to meet you!

Thank you,

Viktor

* * *

**To:** viknikifrv@someotherdomain.com

**From:** yu_k236@somedomain.com

**Subject:** Re:re: Dog-walker

 

Hi, Viktor!

Thanks for emailing me. I’ll sign you up for the position. I only have one dog and I’ll go as far as $15/hour if that’s alright with you. If you could start right away that would be fantastic. I’ll forward my address to you after your confirmation.

I’m elated to see you know some ASL...I look forward to speaking with you! 

Y

* * *

Viktor walked up the steps to a decent-looking place on the other side of town _ — _ a modest little pale blue bungalow with a veranda and a nice-looking garden, too. Lots of tulips and daisies and very pretty pink petunias and a garden gnome or two. It was a cute house and Viktor was curious to see if the interior was just as pleasant as the exterior.

He rang the doorbell _ — _ and then immediately wanted to kick his own ass. Really? Had he forgotten about the very obvious deaf person he’s meeting up with? Seriously, how embarrassing. He pulled out his phone in shame and was about to send a quick email when the door opened.

“Oh,” Viktor gasped, and tucked his phone aside. “Oh, um…” He quickly switched to ASL. “Hello!” 

There was a young man on the other side of the door, a couple inches shorter than Viktor himself, distinctly Asian with soft-looking dark hair that fell over his forehead and equally soft-looking dark eyes behind blue-framed glasses. He tugged at a thick hot pink sweatshirt that had the word  **CHILL** inscribed on it in black beneath a pair of black overalls. He shuffled his sock-covered, Birkenstock-wearing feet, and Viktor couldn’t tell if that was cringey or kind of cute. And the young man was kind of cute himself.

The young man smiled a bit shyly and signed back.  _ Hi. You must be Viktor.  _ Really kind of cute.

“Yes, I am,” Viktor said with a polite smile. “It’s very nice to meet you. _”_ He held his hand out for a shake.

The young man smiled a bit wider and accepted the handshake.  _ It’s nice to meet you, too. My name is Yuuri.  _

Yuuri. “Anyway,” said Viktor. “I feel so silly, I rang the doorbell.” He grinned sheepishly. 

Yuuri nodded.  _ I know. My lights flicker every time somebody rings it.  _

Oh. Was that a thing? Viktor didn’t know that. “Oh! Cool _,_ ” was all he could say. 

_ Thanks.  _ Yuuri gave him a tiny, mysterious smile, and stepped aside.  _ Come in, please.  _

Can confirm, inside was just as cute as the outside. Very minimalistic, with laminate wood floors and black leather furniture and creamy white walls. Very chic. Modern. Simple but stylish. Also a bit toasty—he got a better look and noticed there was a fireplace going on. Wow. Was Yuuri a doctor, maybe? 

_ I’ll be right back, _ Yuuri said, to which Viktor nodded and awkwardly hung around near the front of the house. 

Chris was right, this job already seemed better than no job at all. It wasn’t exactly a professional career or anything, but it was a good start. And, perhaps, Viktor thought, in the future he’d be able milk out a bit more than fifteen bucks. 

Oh, Viktor, he scolded himself mentally. Milking a deaf guy? Seriously rude. 

(Hey, a different kind of milking wouldn’t be too terrible, either.)

Jeez.

He heard a rapid  _ click clack click _ sound, an awfully familiar sound, too. A medium-sized pooch came padding down the hall Yuuri disappeared in, a curly haired poodle that looked suspiciously a lot like Viktor’s own dog. The dog hurried up to Viktor and sniffed around his ankles and knees, tail wagging a thousand miles an hour, before he nosed at Viktor’s hands and licked his fingers. 

Viktor giggled and crouched down. “Hi, doggy!” The dog panted and wiggled happily and whimpered to be petted. “Oh my god, you are so cute!” cried Viktor softly, giving the dog good ol’ chin scratches. “What a sweet boy you are!” If this was the dog Viktor was supposed to walk everyday, he could live with that. 

Yuuri reappeared with a harness and leash in hand. The dog turned to look at him, and Yuuri signed the word for  _ sit, _ and instantly the dog’s butt hit the floor.  _ Good boy, _ Yuuri said, and the dog’s tail continued to wag. Viktor was impressed. 

_ This is Caesar, _ Yuuri said to Viktor as he slipped the harness onto his dog. 

Viktor smiled. “Like Julius?” 

Yuuri gave a little smile back.  _ Exactly.  _ He attached the end of the leash to the hook on Caesar’s harness.  _ I don’t know if you want to do the whole hour—you don’t have to, but that would be most preferable. Caesar likes to take long walks but it’s okay if you don’t want to. _

“No, an hour would be fine,” Viktor said. “I’ll get him all tired out.”

_ Thank you, _ Yuuri said, his smile grateful now.  _ I appreciate it. _

How charming. “It’s my pleasure.”

Yuuri handed the leash to Viktor.  _ See you in an hour. Your signing is really good, by the way.  _

Viktor bubbled with pride. “Thank you so much.”

He waved and headed out the door with Caesar in tow. They turned left on the sidewalk and headed south. “Nice to meet you, Caesar,” he said to the dog. Caesar panted happily. “I think we’ll get along just fine. You remind me of my dog, you know. And,” he said as they turned left again. “your owner’s pretty cute, too.”

* * *

“Well, well. How was the first day on the job?” Chris asked as Viktor hung up his jacket and kicked off his shoes.

“It was fine,” Viktor responded.

“Just fine? You did get paid, right?”

Viktor waved the two bills around. “Yep.”

“That’s good.” Chris reclined on his couch and typed away furiously on his phone. When he looked up again Viktor was still lingering by the door. “Viktor,” he said suspiciously. “Come on, spill the beans.”

At that, Viktor launched himself at his best friend, throwing arms around his waist and burying his face into a warm body that smelled like chamomile tea. “Oh, Chris, the owner is the cutest human being on the planet,” he squealed. “And his dog! Is! The cutest! _Ever!”_

Chris chuckled. “That’s nice. What’s his name?”

“The dog? The dog’s name is Caesar, but the owner’s name is Yuuri with two u’s.”

“Caesar and Yuuri with two u’s,” Chris mused. “Interesting.”

“Yes, it certainly seems that way. The strange thing is that his house looks  _ awful  _ expensive, at least on the inside. I’m thinking Yuuri with two u’s is a doctor or lawyer or something.”

“Mm. That’s nice,” said Chris absent-mindedly, and tapped away on his phone. “You’re not planning on making him your sugar daddy, are you?”

Viktor, barely fazed by the comment, smoothly replied. “I’m fairly sure he’s younger than me, which means I’ll be the first to die, which means I don’t get to inherit anything. The trick is to date someone who is  _ years _ away from dying, not decades. And make sure the rest of his family is dead, too, and he doesn’t have any kids, so he has no choice but to put  _ you _ in his will.”

A deep chuckle emanated from Chris’ chest. “And here we have our local expert…”

Viktor smiled and nuzzled his friend’s stomach. “I’ve watched a few documentaries, Chris. Documentaries don’t lie.” 

“Sure they don’t.” Chris yawned, and then whacked Viktor on the head with one of the throw pillows. “Go to bed, Viktor. You have a job now, remember?”

“Ow. You hit so hard, Chris. You’re so mean to me,” Viktor whined. 

“Shoo.” Chris grinned, shoving Viktor off him and off the couch. 

“Asshole,” grumbled Viktor. But he supposed Chris was right. He had a job now, like a man his age should have. A job that he doesn’t think he’ll be leaving for quite some time.

He retreated into his room and called it a night, placing his book on his nightstand lovingly. 


	2. talking about michelangelo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 2 is up and running for y'all. Hope you enjoy.

**ACT 2**

_talking about michelangelo_

* * *

 

It was three weeks after Viktor met Yuuri that he noticed the books.

_‘“Mary, I love him,” Olivia whispered, clutching her sister’s hands between her own. “Promise you won’t tell Mother or Father.”_

_Her sister gazed at her with wide, endlessly patient eyes. “God, Olivia, what have you done?”_

_“You have to promise me.” Olivia’s words were desperate, harsh, and pleading. “Promise me you’ll keep this between us only. Nobody else can know about this.”’_

_“Olivia…”_

_“Please,” the fair-haired maiden begged quietly, her voice a sweet tremolo. “Please. I’m begging you.”_

“You have her books, too?” Viktor asked Yuuri excitedly.

The young Asian man paused and glanced at the books. He glanced back at Viktor. Smiled a bit. _Yes._

“Oh,” sighed Viktor dreamily. “Aren’t they amazing? Aren’t they just so _powerful_ and romantic? _Oh—_ ” He put a hand to his face and closed his eyes briefly, breathing in deeply before opening them again. “They are wonderful. She is such an inspiring woman, too, you know.”

Yuuri smiled a bit bigger. _I take it you’re a fan of Yukiko’s?_

“Yes, yes, _yes!_ I am such a big fan of her works! I think she is just incredible,” Viktor gushed. He was so excited just talking about her that he couldn’t help bouncing on his toes a bit. “I learned ASL because of her.”

Both of Yuuri’s eyebrows went up and his eyes grew big and wide. _Really?_

Viktor nodded and smiled fondly. “I read on her page online that she’s deaf, so she motivated me to learn her language. If I could ever meet her one day _—_ ” He let out another long, dreamy sigh. “I would probably ask her to marry me.” Maybe not marry. ‘Become best friends with’ was more accurate, but still.

Yuuri squirmed a bit where he stood, and Viktor noticed a light flush over his cheeks. _What if she’s married already?_ he asked. _What would you do then?_

Viktor pouted and ran his fingers over the spines of her books. He thought about it. Shrugged. Turned back to Yuuri with an easygoing smile. “Let’s just hope she’s not.”

* * *

“What do you think is going to happen to Henry in the third book?”

_I don’t know._

“Do you think he’ll survive? Or that his and Olivia’s marriage will be revealed?”

Yuuri rubbed his chin and smiled slowly, hooking Caesar’s leash to his harness. _I’m not sure. It might be._

It was the sixth week of Viktor being Yuuri’s dog-walker and they had grown to be pretty close friends, sharing a love for books and bonding over Kamata Yukiko’s novels. “I hope it won’t be,” Viktor said. “Henry and Olivia are such a sweet couple, and I love Henry so much, I really don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

 _He doesn’t exactly have clean hands, though,_ Yuuri pointed out. _He stole from the royal family to be able to see Olivia again._

“Yeah, but he had a legitimate reason to steal. To see his lover!”

_So you think he should be pardoned?_

“Well…” Viktor pursed his lips as he thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He heard a soft, strange sound come from Yuuri, and it took him a second to realize it was a laugh. Then Yuuri coughed into his elbow and cleared his throat and handed the leash over. _I guess we’ll have to wait until the next book comes out to find out,_ he said, a mysterious smile on his face.

Viktor huffed. “But what if it never comes out?”

 _You should have a little more faith in Yukiko,_ Yuuri teased. _It might come sooner than you think._

There was something about how Yuuri said that made it seem vaguely suspicious. Like Yuuri knew something that he didn’t. Viktor was about to ask if there was something Yuuri wanted to tell him but the young man was already ushering him and the dog out the door.

“Do you think he’s hiding something?” Viktor asked Caesar as he crouched down to tie his shoe. Caesar sniffed at his fingers and wagged his tail. “I think so, too. I won’t bug him about it, though, it’s none of my business.” He stood and they bounded together off the steps to the sidewalk. “But you’ll tell me if he tells you some juicy details, won’t you?” Caesar snorted and huffed and panted. “Wow. I thought we were friends, Caesar. I thought we were friends.”

* * *

“Are you an active reader?” Viktor asked Yuuri one day.

_I try to be one._

“I used to read but now I don’t do as much as I would like,” Viktor said. “Besides Yukiko, of course.” Yuuri rolled his eyes but smiled and said nothing. “When I was younger, they used to teach all the Russian stories in my classes, like Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Nabokov, Chekhov, you know, you get the idea. I've always liked them.”

_They’re good authors._

“Oh, you’ve read some of their works?”

_A few. Especially Tolstoy. There was a short story of his that I quite liked called ‘How Much Land Does a Man Need?’_

Caesar’s chin rested against Viktor’s thigh, and he petted his soft ears gently. “Go on.”

Yuuri crossed his ankle over his knee. _It’s about this guy who thinks that if he has a lot of land, the Devil won’t be able to touch him. The Devil hears that and decides to put this guy to the test. The guy is offered certain amounts of land and he buys it all thinking it’ll make him safe, and then he comes across this group of guys who say he can have as much land as he wants, but he himself has to walk around the amount he wants, as well as walk all the way back. Of course, the guy does this, because he’s greedy, but on the way back he dies from exhaustion. They bury him in a hole exactly his size, and that answers the question the story poses: how much land does a man need?_

Viktor listened _—_ well, watched _—_ in silent awe. He took a moment to absorb the story and didn’t respond immediately and Yuuri went pink. “Wow,” Viktor said in due course, blue eyes wide. “How fascinating. Say, what got you interested in books, Yuuri?”

Yuuri cracked a smile. _You don’t need ears to read; just eyes._

“Fair enough.”

 _It’s easy for me to be into books because I was born deaf, and there weren’t many other alternatives at the time. All my life I’ve learned what I know through what I read and what I see. It’s not just that I’ve always had an interest in literature, even though I have,_ he said with a quiet chuckle. _It’s just one of the only forms of—education, I guess, that I can share with most people. Besides television, movies, visual experience…_ Yuuri shrugged. _You get the idea._

Viktor nodded. “That makes perfect sense,” he said, and rubbed his chin. “That story sounds very interesting, by the way. By Tolstoy, you said?”

_Yep._

“I’d like to read it. Is it on the internet?”

_Probably._

Viktor beamed and immediately wrote down the title of the story as a reminder on his phone. “This is so much fun. I don’t really get to talk to anybody about books. My best friend, Chris, he’s read a few books but he’s not super into it; he’s more into movies. And everybody else I know just can’t be bothered to read more than they were forced to throughout high school.”

Yuuri tilted his head and frowned. _That’s too bad._

“It is.”

There was a lull in conversation after that. A comfortable silence, for about a minute or two. Yuuri tugged at the hem of his light blue cotton t-shirt and Viktor watched. “Oh,” he said finally, getting Yuuri’s attention once more. “I want to get back into reading. Do you have any recommendations?”

To his surprise, Yuuri lit up like a firework. His eyes went wide and he grinned ear-to-ear. _From any genre?_

“Sure. Anything I can get my hands on.”

Yuuri immediately whipped out his phone and typed rapidly on it for a second. Then showed the screen to Viktor, wriggling in his seat happily.

**Top 10 Best Books!**

by me

  1. 1984 by George Orwell
  2. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
  3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
  4. Animal Farm by George Orwell
  5. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
  6. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
  7. Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White
  8. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
  9. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
  10. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton



_“Wow,”_ Viktor said. “Did you have this just sitting in your phone in case somebody asked?” Not that he minded.

Yuuri blushed and smiled easily and a little embarrassed and nodded.

“I see.” Viktor grinned. “Interesting. What kind of novels are these?”

 _I like to think they’re all classics. They’re all very different but some themes are consistent throughout a lot of them. And they’re fairly easy to digest, too; they’re short but they’re full of—_ Here Yuuri seemed to struggle to come up with a good descriptor. He thought about it, and decided on _—love._ He smiled shyly. 

Love. What a sweet way of putting it. Viktor nodded slowly and beamed. “Okay! I’ll give them a shot.”

Yuuri looked like he couldn’t be any happier. _Perfect! I hope you like them._ He clapped his hands excitedly.

Viktor tilted his head and watched the light dance on Yuuri’s happy cheeks.


	3. i always read bukowski before going to bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 3 yaaa. my ass is off to the lake tmrw so i thought it'd be nice to post this before i leave. enjoy!

**ACT 3**

_i always read bukowski before going to bed_

* * *

**V:** i understand…...nothing

**Y:** Viktor aren’t you like on page 14

**V:** ya

**V:** But there’s like no dialogue! Who even is Winston

**Y:** That’s why you have to keep reading to find out!

**V:** Dont yell at me :'(

**Y:** Oh shush

* * *

A little bit later, Yuuri inquired about the second book on the list; he wanted to know what Viktor thought of it, what he felt, if he liked it.

“It’s sad,” Viktor said quietly as he gazed solemnly at the novel in his lap. “It’s so sad and unfair.”

Yuuri nodded and smiled sadly and patted Viktor’s arm.

“I just hope nothing bad happens to the dad,” Viktor said. “I like him a lot. He’s my favourite.”

Yuuri nodded.

“It’s just not fair.”

Yuuri nodded again.

* * *

“”I’m sorry about the clock,” he said’,” Viktor quietly read out loud to himself as he half-walked half-jogged down the sidewalk with Caesar, one hand holding the leash and the other holding a dog-eared book. “‘My own face had now assumed a deep tropical burn. I couldn’t muster up a single commonplace out of the thousand in my head. “It’s an old clock,” I told them idio _—_ ’”

Viktor tripped over his own feet and fell forward onto his face, right into a pile of wet leaves. Caesar jerked to a stop and sat and waited. His face kind of hurt but that didn’t impede on his reading for one second. “‘ _—_ idiotically’,” he continued. “‘I think we all believed for a moment _—_ ’” He paused to brush the damp flora off his knees and rose back to his feet, continuing on his way. “‘ _—_ that it had smashed in pieces on the floor’.”

* * *

“It has talking animals,” Viktor said to Yuuri. “How bad can it be?”

* * *

“It makes me wonder what I would do if I was being forced to burn all of Yukiko’s books. I would probably do the same: run away and find a place where nobody could judge me for liking to read. How horrible. Just the thought of burning _any_ book makes me physically sick.”

Yuuri smirked.

* * *

“Yuuri,” Viktor said sternly the following month. “Why did you recommend me a book that has small _children_ murdering each other?”

Yuuri shrugged and smiled easily. _It’s a good book._

“Children are _dying_ in this book, Yuuri! How is that good even in the slightest?”

_Read till the end, Viktor._

* * *

“I can’t read this anymore,” Viktor announced, and placed the book on the table in front of Yuuri.

_What? Why not?_

“It’s toying with my emotions.” Viktor tapped his foot impatiently. “It wants me to think everything’s going to end all happy and nice and wonderful, but I can see _right_ through this author.”

Yuuri looked amused. _Oh, really?_

“Yes, Yuuri. After reading that first book with the two talking pigs, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m never trusting a talking pig ever again, no matter how cute or friendly it may be.”

* * *

" _What!”_ Viktor screeched at approximately 1:18 AM some morning. “He _dies?!”_

A bang on the wall _—_ a groggy voice. “Shut _up_ , Viktor!”

“Oh _—_ sorry, Chris! Sorry.” Viktor slapped a bookmark in his book and whipped out his phone.

**V:** HOW COULD HE DIE?! HE’S ONE OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS!

**V:** I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW OMG

**V:** I’M GOING TO SPIT

**V:** YUURI YOURE SO NASTY YOURE MEAN YOURE AWFUL 

Not a minute later:

**Y:** Hahahahaha

**Y:** He had to die Viktor. He killed a woman

**V:** BY ACCIDENT!!!

**Y:** Still

* * *

“There are no paragraphs,” Viktor wailed, jabbing at said blocks of text impatiently. “How can you even read this? The print is tiny, first of all, and secondly—what is even going on?!”

Yuuri giggled and Caesar yawned on the floor beside them. Yuuri took the book from Viktor and flipped back to the first page. _If you don’t understand, you reread._

“I’m _trying!_ What do you think I’ve been doing? All I gain by doing that is understanding even _less_ of what’s going on!”

_Will you just give it a try? For instance, did you know that somebody has been speaking the entire time?_

Viktor’s face went blank. “What do you mean?”

Yuuri pointed to several quotation marks at the beginning of the very few number of paragraphs.

“Ohh,” Viktor said after further inspection. “Oh, oh, I see.” He studied the page harder. “I did not know that. Well, I stand corrected, because I didn’t catch that. That is—wait, I still don’t understand...”

Yuuri shook his head in mock disappointment.

* * *

“Before I get to the second half of this story, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “tell me if anybody’s going to die.”

Yuuri shrugged as he bent to slip the harness onto Caesar.

“You absolutely know,” Viktor whined the second Yuuri stood up. “I’m so close to finishing your list and you can’t give me a hint.”

The young Japanese man _—_ Viktor came about to learn that Yuuri was Japanese by birth (just like Yukiko!) _—_ nodded and grinned playfully. _No hints. Read the book._

“That’s so not fair.”

_Hey, nobody told me how the book was going to end when I read them for the first time._

“Yeah, but I’m not you.”

_No hints. You’re almost done anyway._

Yuuri led Viktor and Caesar to the door, and on his lips was a curious, mischievous smirk. He looked absolutely and utterly pleased with himself. Viktor paused before stepping over the threshold to look pointedly at Yuuri. “What?”

Yuuri shrugged again and folded his arms over his chest.

“Come on.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and sighed, one finger tapping on his bicep. Then: _I’ll give you a little gift once you finish the book._

Viktor’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “A gift?”

_Yes. Now scram._

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed. “You can’t just say that and then expect me not to ask what it is!”

Yuuri made a face. _I’m not telling you what it is. Now go. I have work to do._

Viktor tilted his head while Caesar nudged his nose impatiently against his calf. “What _do_ you do for work, anyway? You never told me.”

Yuuri gave him a blank stare, and abruptly slammed the door on him.

* * *

Not more than a week and a half later, at 2:34 AM:

**V:** i finished it!!! Finally!!!!!!

**V:** If you drop a book in a bag of rice will the book come out dry after some point in time?

**Y:** Why is the book wet to begin with?

**V:** My tears

**Y:** Omg lmfao. Seriously?

**V:** [Attachment: 1 image]

**Y:** omg. Sure you didn’t drop it in the toilet?

**V:** NO! 

**V:** YOU DID THIS TO ME

**V:** ARGHGHGHGHGHHG

**Y:** Lol.

**Y:** Well you finished the list! I’m proud of you! Congrats!

**Y:** Hope you like your gift when you see it later today ;)

**V:** Ooo… ;) ;) ;)

**V:** yuuri! i had no idea you were giving me THAT kind of gift~

**Y:** *:)

**Y:** Stoppp. Ugh don’t get any ideas.

**V:** Too late ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

**Y:** GOODBYE


	4. rain in my eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 4! the big plot twist (not really)!!! i'm back home from the lake aka i'm back in business, bois. enjoyenjoyenjoy

**ACT 4**

_rain in my eyes_

* * *

 

“My gift, Yuuri?” was the third thing Viktor said after ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’. 

Yuuri frowned.  _ Really can’t wait for your gift, can you? _

Viktor bit his lip and smiled sheepishly. 

Yuuri huffed out a sigh, then he smiled and stepped aside.  _ I guess you’ve waited long enough.  _

Viktor took a seat on the leather couch while Caesar greeted him, jumping up onto his lap and licking his face. “Hi, boy,” Viktor whispered, affectionately scratching the dog’s head. Caesar yawned and panted happily. “Do you know what my gift is?” Caesar gazed back silently. “Yeah. Me neither. I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

Yuuri sat across from Viktor, and that’s when he noticed a brown portfolio sitting on the glass coffee table. Yuuri gestured to it. Viktor looked at it skeptically, then back at Yuuri, who smiled softly.  _ Open it.  _

Slowly, Viktor reached for it, and opened it up. 

A looseleaf. 

_ ‘Part 3: Rough outline _

 

  * __~~Henry dies~~ (NO!!! DO YOU WANT THE FANS TO HATE YOU?)__


  * _Henry gets injured (ok)_


  * ~~_Henry goes in battle but is ok_~~


  * _Maybe gets shellshock? (like septimus smith? ha)_



 

_ \- Olivia is pregnant! _

_ \- boy? girl?  _

_ \- olivia is sent suitors, enter “”edgy new character!””  _

_ \- family feud  _

_ \- henry gets charged with theft & sent to jail! (think of how 2 get him out of jail) _

_ \- somebody has to die and i just don't know who!  _

_ \- how to end this?  _

_ \- ~~blah blah blah~~ _ (The rest of the sentence is illegible.) 

_ \- writing stuff  _

_ \- money now please and thanks _ (The rest of the sentence has been scribbled out.)

_ \- つかれた。’ _

It took him only a second to understand what this single piece of paper meant, and what it held, and what it informed. 

Viktor slowly looked up at Yuuri. “Is this,” he managed to choke out, almost forgetting to sign while doing so. “Is this...legit?”

To that, Yuuri smiled, and he nodded. 

“Oh my god,” Viktor said, already breathless. “Really?”

_ Yes, _ Yuuri said.  _ This is her work, her handwriting, her notes. _

Viktor felt like he’s going to hyperventilate. “Oh my god,” he said again. His heart rapidly knocked against his ribcage. “Where,” he said. “did you get this?”

To that, Yuuri’s smile fell, and he looked down at his lap. Suddenly he was looking quite ashamed, and Viktor was confused.

Excitement replaced with worry, Viktor reached out to touch Yuuri’s knee and he kept it there until they locked eyes. “Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. “What is it?” 

Yuuri looked back at him (with  _ wide, endlessly patient eyes _ ), and he blushed and lowered his lashes and looked rather embarrassed. 

He stood abruptly, and Viktor watched him. Then, he gestured for Viktor to follow him.

And so he did, and quickly. They went down the hall, the hall Viktor hadn’t gone down until his very moment, to a room, in which Yuuri stopped before it and turned to lean his back against it, momentarily, and looked up at Viktor. 

_ I trust you, _ he said, and that’s all he said, and then he turned around and opened the door.

Viktor cautiously stepped through, not knowing what he should expect or what he was going to see. 

He saw a beautiful bedroom, a beautiful bed, a beautiful rug, a beautiful floor, beautiful walls, beautiful windows. In the corner sat an elegant writing desk, and for some reason Viktor was drawn to it. He slowly moved towards it, and sat down.

Papers everywhere. Pencils and pens and crumbled paper and neat paper and neat stacks of paper and disorganized stacks of paper and they all seemed to have words written down, words thrown on the page, words regurgitated from other texts, words hastily scribbled down like an afterthought, neat words on neat lines and messy words on messy lines with messy connotations and then pleasant connotations and words like  _ anathema _ and  _ clandestine _ and  _ ambivalent _ and lines like  _ he was favourably disposed about the proposals  _ and  _ she was drawn to his subtle, simple, sweet beauty  _ and the name  _ Henry _ and  _ Olivia _ and there was a laptop open to a Word document that was 214 pages long and all these tabs open that said ‘VERSION1’ and ‘UNFINISHEDVERSION4’ and ‘Move 23 files to trash?’ and there were at  _ least _ twelve different copies of Yukiko’s first book in a stack and at  _ least  _ eighteen different copies of Yukiko’s second book in a stack and they were all signed and had the golden seal of ‘#1  _ New York Times _ Bestseller’ and—

—Viktor stood there, silent, taking it all in, not sure what to think or what to say or what to do. His mind went blank. 

He swivelled around in his seat slowly, slowly, slowly, and Yuuri was sitting on his bed, twisting the drawstrings of his hoodie over and over and over and over, not wanting to look at Viktor; he looked too embarrassed to, or maybe too guilty to, or maybe he was regretting showing Viktor at all.

But eventually they made eye contact, and Viktor softened his expression. “Yuuri,” he said. “Are  _ you _ Kamata Yukiko?” 

Yuuri flicked his gaze from his desk to Viktor’s eyes, back and forth, back and forth. Then he lifted his eyes, wet his lips, and nodded slowly.  _ Yes. _

Intense excitement washed over Viktor, first a little at a time, and then all at once. His fingers shook, his heart pounding pounding  _ slamming  _ against his chest, begging to be set free, and he floated up to the ceiling and maybe he blacked out, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was talking to— _ had _ been talking to—his  _ absolute favourite _ author. All this time. Viktor vibrated feverishly. 

Yuuri blushed and blushed and blushed. Ashamed, he twiddled his fingers.  _ Are you mad at me? _

Viktor was taken aback. “What?” he rasped. “Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?”

_ I should have told you, _ Yuuri signed weakly.  _ Months ago. I’m sorry.  _

“No, no, no, Yuuri. Don’t be sorry.” In one fluid movement, Viktor leapt for Yuuri from where he was sitting, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight, warm hug. Yuuri instinctively stiffened and tensed and Viktor could feel his body screaming  _ abort _ but Viktor held on tight for a long, long time.

He didn’t know when he pulled back but he did, because he was then gazing into Yuuri’s soft chocolate eyes. He sat back a bit, at least a good three inches back, and then he realized just how  _ insane _ and  _ wonderful _ this ordeal was. “This is the best day of my life,” he squeaked in a voice two octaves higher than usual even though Yuuri couldn’t hear it anyway. “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it’s  _ you _ behind all this—well, I can, because you’re very smart, but—but—! Oh, my god,” he whispered, and covered his mouth briefly with both hands. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you. I can’t believe—all this time—you—you…” He squealed and jumped off the bed to bounce around the room, electrified, enlivened, animated. “You’re her! You’re  _ her! _ I can’t believe I’m actually here, with you, in this room, and—oh god,” he moaned, and clutched his head with his hands. “I must have sounded so stupid to you this whole entire time! You’re like—like—a  _ scholar, _ and I just feel so dumb being next to you, and—“

Yuuri waved his hands wildly, tiny throaty almost indiscernible laughs escaping his mouth.  _ Calm down.  _

“You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation,” Viktor griped. “Oh, my god, you are  _ brilliant. _ You’re wonderful, you’re amazing, you’re powerful, you’re—you’re an inspiration! To so many people,  _ Yuuri— _ ” He stopped to catch his breath. “Yuuri, you’re _fantastic.”_

Yuuri placed both hands over his face to show he was embarrassed, and Viktor laughed and pulled them away. “It’s true,” he insisted. “Everything I say about you is true and you know it. Don’t you?”

_ No, no, _ Yuuri tried to protest.

“You should know it especially if you didn’t know it before! Yuuri, you’re amazing. This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my entire life,” Viktor cried passionately, and then get up to resume bouncing around the room ecstatically. 

When he had bounced off every corner in glee, he sat back down in front of Yuuri, waiting. Yuuri smiled shyly and scratched the nape of his neck.  _ It’s very sweet of you to say all that, _ he signed finally.  _ I was very happy to hear you were such a big fan. It’s a weird feeling but I like it.  _ A pause.  _ I never really used to think I was a good writer. Even now…  _ Another pause.

“Yes?” Viktor prompted.

_ Even now,  _ Yuuri continued.  _ I still don’t think I’m that good. That I don’t deserve to be called a ‘bestseller’ because there are plenty of people out there better than me.  _ He sighed and smiled kind of sadly.  _ But thank you for being a fan, I appreciate your support. _

Viktor was flabbergasted. How could this young man not see how talented he was? Was he blind?! “Listen, I don’t care what you think about yourself. Well, I do, but that’s besides the point—look, you’ve influenced so many people’s lives because of what you’ve written. You’ve  _ inspired _ me—you know I donate and volunteer at deaf and mute communities, right?” he asked gently. 

Yuuri nodded slightly. 

“You know it was all because of you, right?”

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing. 

“It  _ was _ ,” Viktor said pointedly. “because you inspired me to. To do good for people with disabilities.” 

Slowly, Yuuri nodded. 

“So,” Viktor said. “for a couple of minutes, forget everything about what  _ you _ think about yourself and think instead of what you’ve done for so many people around the world. And me. You care about what you’ve done for me, yes?” 

Yuuri nodded again, cheeks pink. 

“Right,” Viktor said. “Exactly.” He drew Yuuri in for another hug. This time, Yuuri timidly returned it. “Plus you’ve taught me so much,” Viktor added after they pulled away. “including making me fall in love with books again. I guess I’ve always been too dumb to truly understand literature, but that’s where you come in.” He winked.

Yuuri shook his head.  _ You’re not dumb.  _

“You’re right, I’m pretty smart,” Viktor said. 

Yuuri scoffed.  _ And humble, too, so it seems. _

Viktor smirked. “Dumb because I never  _ got _ reading like other people probably did. I just read for the stories and nothing else; not the themes, or symbols, or messages, or anything.”

_ That doesn’t make you dumb,  _ Yuuri said.  _ Just lazy. _

“You see? You’re already proving me wrong and correcting me! Okay, how about we make a deal?” Viktor brushed invisible dust off his pants and straightened his back. “I won’t call myself dumb and you have to give yourself more credit than you think. Deal?” He held his hand up and stuck his pinky finger out. 

Yuuri looked skeptically at his finger. For a second Viktor was certain he wasn’t going to go through with it but soon enough their pinkies were interlocked.  _ Deal,  _ Yuuri said, and smiled sweetly.

He was so _cute._ Viktor reached out and gently squished Yuuri’s cheeks between his palms. “So  _ cute.”  _

Yuuri went beet-red and tried to push Viktor’s hands away. He pouted.  _ Don’t make fun of me. _

“I’m not. You are really cute.”

_ And you’re noisy,  _ Yuuri teased.  _ So loud. _

Viktor laughed. He poked Yuuri's cheek and briefly considered teasing him some more, eventually deciding against it. _“So,”_ he said once he retracted his hands, and grinned. “How’s book three coming along?”

To his immense shock, Yuuri grinned back.  _ Wanna read it? _

Viktor clutched his chest as if he were having a heart attack right there and then. “Oh,  _ god, _ Yuuri! Are you serious?”

_ Yeah,  _ Yuuri said, looking both smug and nonchalant at the same time.  _ That’s what I’ve been working on for the past couple of months. I was putting it off for too long, then I got really invested in  it, which is why I needed someone to walk Caesar for me. That’s how busy I was. I finished half of it just the other day. _

Viktor was pretty sure his jaw just unhinged from his face and shattered on the floor. Yuuri let out a tiny, hoarse laugh and reached out to close Viktor’s mouth.  _ Come on,  _ he said, and patted Viktor’s leg.  _ I’ll sneak you a copy of the draft.  _ He got off the bed and moved to his desk and rummaged through the drawers.

Still seated on the lofty bed, Viktor watched Yuuri dig through his things, looking for the pile of papers that Viktor of all people was allowed to bestow his eyes upon, before anyone else, before Yuuri’s publisher, before the bookstores. Before his fans. Before the world.

“Yeah,” he said, even though Yuuri had his back turned to him. “Yeah. I’d love to.” 

He wondered how he ever got to be so lucky.


	5. his smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chap this time around. Hope y'all enjoy, and have a great weekend. See ya in a few days. uwu

**ACT 5**

_his smile_

* * *

“‘He smiled bitterly and ran his fingers over the coarse filament’,” Viktor whispered, almost silently reading out loud to himself, elbows leaning against the table. “‘He didn’t know what to think about her words. He felt everything and nothing all at once. He—‘“

“Hey,” came a rough voice. “What are you doing? Being a freak? Like always?”

“I’m reading. And you just interrupted me. Now, if you don’t mind terribly…” Viktor stuffed his nose back in the story.

“Since when do you read?” Yuri asked. He was a small thing of sixteen years with blond hair, blue eyes, and an icy personality.

“Since always, Yuri with one _u._ I should really call you something else, it’s so troublesome switching between one and two u’s,” Viktor mused out loud. “Maybe Yuri-o. Yurio. That sounds nice.”

Yurio scoffed. “What the hell are you on about, old man?”

“Nothing. Just leave me to my book.” Viktor waved Yurio away.

“Aren’t you going to order something?”

“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.”

“You’ve been here for, like, twenty minutes already _.”_

“So?”

An annoyed grunt. “Why are you even here if you’re not going to order anything?”

Viktor yawned. “Yurio, you’re boring me. Go mop or something.”

Yurio’s face flushed angrily. Viktor found amusement in irritating the teenager because his face would get as red as Yuuri’s when he was embarrassed. “Fuck you. What are you reading, anyway?” Without waiting for an answer, Yurio swiped the papers out of Viktor’s hands.

“Hey!” Viktor protested.

Scanning a couple of lines, Yurio’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You like this cheesy shit?”

“It’s not ‘cheesy shit’. _You’re_ cheesy shit.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense. _God,_ you’re so...old and weird. Whatever, you better order something or we’ll kick you out.” Yurio shoved the stack of papers into Viktor’s chest and stomped back into the kitchen.

“It’s called _romance,_ Yurio! How dare you insult this masterpiece,” Viktor called after the teen. “Maybe you’ll appreciate it when you’re older!”

He knew Yurio heard but he didn’t get a response. Typical moody teen. Ah, no matter, there were bigger issues at hand. Many involving this mysterious letter Henry has just received from Olivia, supposedly...Viktor shoved his nose back into his papers and quickly resumed being engrossed in it.

A few minutes later, he looked up when a figure stood in front of his booth. “Yuuri!” He leapt to his feet and sucked the author up into a warm, tight hug. He was pleasantly surprised to feel the hug being reciprocated, albeit a bit shyly, a bit self-consciously.

Viktor pulled away and they sat. “How are you?” he asked.

_I’m fine. How are you?_

“I’m well.” Viktor patted his paper pile. “I’ve been digging into your new book. I can hardly put it down.”

Yuuri blushed. _It’s just the draft, though. I’m sure it all sounds rushed. I put myself in Olivia’s shoes for once..._

“So— _beautifully!”_ said Viktor raptly.

Yuuri protested. _Oh, no—_

“Yes, yes—beautifully—beautifully! Oh, it’s just so wonderful. I almost don’t want to ever finish it because I don’t want it to be over!”

Yuuri put a hand to his chest and smiled gratefully. _Thank you._

Viktor smiled and fingered the staples of the booklet. Yuuri lowered his gaze. They quietly sat for a moment or so.

“It’s been a while,” Viktor said soon enough. For the past week Yuuri had given him clear instructions to not stop by, whether to visit or to walk Caesar.

Yuuri nodded, his face suddenly a serious canvas. _Yes. I needed some time for myself to think._

Viktor tilted his head. “What about?”

Yuuri pursed his lips and drew his gaze elsewhere, away from Viktor, out the window beside them. He looked like he was about to say something on a whim, and stopped himself.

“It’s about time,” said another voice, and Viktor turned to look. Yurio scowled behind his notepad. “May I take your drinks?” He spoke through gritted teeth. Viktor had to stifle a giggle.

“Green tea,” he said. “Black. Please.”

Yurio didn’t even glance at him. “Sure. You?” He looked pointedly at Yuuri.

Yuuri took the drink menu and pointed simply to the coffee.

“Black?” Yurio asked. Yuuri shook his head. Yurio stared him down a second. “Okay, then how would you like it?” Yuuri held up two fingers. “Um...what? Two...two—milk?” Yuuri beamed brightly and nodded enthusiastically at that. “Okay. Just two milk?” Yuuri shook his head again, and held up two fingers again. By this point Viktor could see Yurio’s awkward annoyance. “Two what? Two—sugars? Two creams? Tw—two creams?” Yuuri nodded again, still smiling. “So what is it? Two milk, or two creams?” Yuuri frowned. “Or both?” Yuuri’s face lit up and he smiled brightly. “Two milk, two creams, then?” Another nod.

“Oookay…” Yurio jotted it down and didn’t even attempt to smile. “I’ll be back.” Before he left, he stooped down beside Viktor. “What the fuck is up with _him?”_ he whispered, glancing at Yuuri suspiciously.

Viktor glared up at the teen. “He’s _deaf,_ idiot. Would it kill you to be at least a _little_ bit polite?”

Yurio’s face blushed brighter than the sun. “Oh.” He looked quite embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and darted away.

In Yurio’s fairness, he handled Yuuri’s different way of ordering quite well, actually. It was one thing being a shitty brat directly to Yuuri, and another thing being a shitty brat around Viktor. Only one of those scenarios could be deemed acceptable.

 _I can read lips a little bit,_ Yuuri said.

“Sorry about him,” Viktor apologized. “He can be really rude sometimes.”

Yuuri waved off the comment. _Well, he seemed nice to me._

Viktor blinked dumbly. That’s a first. “Really?”

 _Yeah. Most people wouldn’t even look at me. They’d always want me to write my order down, or they’d ask anyone I was with if they could order for me instead._ A little sigh came from Yuuri’s mouth, but he smiled. _I understand, though, so it doesn’t usually bother me. But it’s nice to meet people who treat me like everyone else._

Viktor watched Yuuri with a slight tilt of his head. He wondered who these people were that had the gall to treat this sweet boy so poorly like that, and wondered if Yuuri would be opposed to him beating the shit out of those said people.

 _Anyway,_ Yuuri continued. _Getting back to your previous question...I was wondering…_

“Yes?”

 _I was wondering if you would…_ Yuuri paused to scratch the nape of his neck.

“Yes?”

 _This is probably a silly idea,_ Yuuri chuckled. _I’ll probably get in trouble for doing this, but…_

“What is it?” Viktor leaned forward in his seat, intrigued.

Yuuri paused and fiddled with his thumbs. _This is the reason I asked you to lunch in the first place, you know._

“Of course, but what is it?” Sometimes Yuuri could be so vexing!

_Well…_

At that moment, Yurio returned, two mugs sitting on his platter. “Tea, and...coffee,” he mumbled.

Yuuri gratefully took his mug from the teen with a sincerely sweet smile. He set it down, and then turned to Yurio and signed the words _thank you._

Yurio blinked at the gesture; turned to Viktor questioningly. “He’s saying thank you,” said Viktor.

“Oh,” said Yurio. His face lit up, a red flush crawling up his neck onto his cheeks and ears. He fumbled with his fingers and stammered and scratched the nape of his neck. “You’re welcome,” he managed to quickly spit out. Then he swiftly turned and scurried away.

Yuuri giggled. _Cute,_ he said.

Viktor watched him, fascinated.

 _Viktor, I want to ask you something,_ Yuuri said after he sipped his coffee.

“Yes?” Viktor nodded fervently, eyes wide.

Yuuri smiled shyly and traced his finger around the rim of his mug for a moment. Then, he finally spit it out. _I’ve been thinking about it, and...I want to put you in my book._

Viktor’s entire body fell off the earth. “What—?”

 _I...was planning on making a character based off of you. And he’d be the—the ‘new, edgy character’._ Yuuri smiled nervously. _He wouldn’t literally be you, but he’d be very similar._

Viktor looked at him. And looked. And looked. And said nothing.

Yuuri rubbed his wrist self-consciously. _I thought,_ he started, _it’d be a good idea. I thought you might like that._

“Why?” Viktor asked softly.

_Why what?_

“Why would you do that...for me?” Nothing he had ever received in his life could amount to this. This couldn’t be real.

Yuuri’s smile was shaky. _Because I like you?_ He laughed and his face bloomed red red red and Viktor wanted to kiss it right here right now. _It’s silly, isn’t it? I thought it’d be nice, but judging by your expression I’m guessing it’s not. I’m sorry._ He shook his head rapidly and squirmed and he looked so, so embarrassed.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said softly. Yuuri gazed up at him hesitantly. “I love the idea,” Viktor breathed. “I love, love, _love_ it. I love it so much I think I might—“ He wiped his eyes delicately with his napkin and grinned. “Oh wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow.” He shook his head and laughed, and briefly wondered if anyone listening in thought he was mentally ill. “Nothing would make me happier,” he said. “That would be...the most _amazing_ thing anyone could...” He stopped and his lip quivered and soon enough he tasted warm tears on the corner of his mouth.

Yuuri’s eyes went wide and he laughed and reached across the table to pat his cheeks dry with the napkin. _I’m sorry for making you cry._

“They’re happy tears.” Viktor sniffed and nodded. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll never walk Caesar ever again.”

Yuuri pretended to look frightened beyond belief. He pretended to cross his heart and stick a needle in his eye, which made Viktor laugh. “Good.”

Without warning, Yuuri reached across once more and slipped his warm, soft hand into Viktor’s. Viktor felt his face flush because he could feel every line, every curve, every silky smooth inch of Yuuri’s delicate hand. A writer’s hand, he noted. Soft palms and long, strong fingers. He squeezed and swallowed the urge to intertwine their fingers.

Yuuri smiled so sweetly at him and so shyly and he was so beautiful. He patted Viktor’s hand and then retracted. _You’re my wonderful friend,_ he said. _I’m so grateful to have you as one of my closest friends._

Viktor couldn’t resist the slightest twinge of disappointment of being called a _friend._ But it didn’t matter what he felt. He had no excuse if he were _not,_ with all his soul and heart, thankful for knowing such a sweet man.

He rested his chin on his upturned palm, elbow on the table, and lovingly watched Yuuri talk. He was so enraptured by his _sweet, subtle beauty_ that he hardly heard Yurio back at his side, demanding their orders.

He put the restaurant on mute and all he could hear was Yuuri.

* * *

_His name is Vincent._

“I like that name.”

_Good, because I wasn’t going to change it even if you didn’t like it._

Viktor pouted. Then he was thoughtful. “What’s he like?”

_Well, he’s...brave. And strong. He’s kind and gentle and smart, and—_

“Handsome?” Viktor smirked.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and smirked back. _Very handsome._ He tapped his chin. _But he can be dense sometimes._

“What?” Viktor pouted again. “Dense in a good way, right?”

 _Nope,_ Yuuri said bluntly. _Dense as in, out of the goodness of his heart he would walk into a dangerous battlefield if it meant saving his friends._

“And that’s a _bad_ thing to you?!”

 _No, no, that’s what makes him brave and kind. But he’s dense because he’s so willing and ready to sacrifice himself that he doesn’t even care enough to know what anyone else thinks. People love him. His family loves him. His friends love him. They want him to be safe and he just…_ Yuuri paused to scribble down a few notes, writing the words BRAVE, SMART, GOOD, DENSE in big letters under Vincent’s name. _He’s stubborn. He doesn’t listen to anyone._

Viktor frowned. Did Yuuri really think of him like that? Perhaps he’d been coming off as arrogant when he intended to come off as confident. He picked at his jeans silently.

Noticing Viktor’s sudden decrease in excitedness, Yuuri nudged him. _But that’s what makes him a hero,_ he said, poking Viktor in the chest. _He’s selfless and humble, and everyone praises him for being one of the greatest soldiers to walk the planet. He really is a cool guy._ Yuuri smiled proudly.

Viktor smiled, too, and inched closer. “Good to know.”

* * *

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Viktor sang as he stepped over the threshold. It was bloody difficult to sign while holding bags of groceries. “How are we doing today? Working hard, or hardly working?”

Yuuri crumbled up the piece of paper he had just jotted notes on and threw it at Viktor. _I can’t think of anything good today._

Viktor clucked his tongue and set the bags down on the table near the kitchen. “Nonsense.” He plucked the crumpled wad and undid it, squinting at Yuuri’s tiny, rushed handwriting. “‘He held in his breath and waited for the guards to pass...he knew that if he waited any longer, he’d miss his chance. He had to move quickly, for the time he had was limited, and if anyone found out he was here…’” The rest of the sentence trailed off. Viktor placed it down in front of Yuuri. “Keep it! I think it sounds great.”

Yuuri raised a skeptical brow. _You think so?_

“Yes, of course. One time, a professor of mine told us that we should save copies of every thought we had,” Viktor said intelligently. “because you never know when you’re going to want to refer back to them! You might like what you thought back then.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. _I know that. It doesn’t work for me. I hate most of everything I write down._

Viktor frowned. He waited a moment, then bent down as if to retrieve the paper. Then straightened, changing his mind. “Keep it anyway,” he suggested. “Just in case.”

Yuuri gave Viktor another look, before sighing and tucking the paper away into his brown portfolio. _If you say so._

* * *

“Are you drinking enough water?”

_Are you my mother?_

“Is it a crime to be worried about you?”

_I’m fine, Viktor._

“I didn’t ask if you were fine,” Viktor said sharply. “I asked if you’re drinking enough water.”

Yuuri pursed his lips like a grumpy teenager. _Yeah, sure._

“I’ll be back.” Viktor hurried to the kitchen to retrieve a cold water bottle. He stuck a straw in it and returned to Yuuri. “Here. Drink.”

Yuuri stared at the bottle. Scoffed at it. Returned to his writing.

Viktor pouted and nudged the mouthpiece of the straw between Yuuri’s lips. To his success, it made Yuuri laugh and part his lips to welcome the plastic. He sucked up several gulps of water and Viktor smiled triumphantly. The bottle was set down and Yuuri gave Viktor a cheeky grin. _Thanks. What would I do without you?_

Viktor smiled and ruffled Yuuri’s hair. “Not much.”

* * *

 _He is_ not _going to fight a dragon, Viktor._

“Why not? I think that’d be pretty cool.”

_I’m not aiming for ‘pretty cool’. I’m aiming for adventure._

“Is a dragon not an adventure?!”

_No!_

Viktor brushed through Yuuri’s soft black hair with a comb. Then set the comb down.

“Outrageous,” he said. “I read through your entire book list, and this is the thanks I get.”

 _I’m not putting any dragons in my book because I’m not writing Lord of the Rings,_ Yuuri said. _This is still a romance, remember?_

“Doesn’t mean you can’t put in one, tiny dragon.”

_I can’t write dragons, Viktor. I don’t do that. I don’t even like dragons._

“But think about it. You put in one dragon and everyone will want to read your book. Everyone likes a good story with dragons in it.” Viktor picked up the comb.

_Viktor, you’re—_

“Hold that thought.” Viktor finished tugging out the kinks in the dark hair. Then he set down the comb and ran his fingers through the silky locks. Yuuri’s hair was so, so soft. It was thick and shiny and it fell just past his ears and it smelled _so_ good.

He tied Yuuri’s hair up into a teeny tiny ponytail on top of his head. “There. Done.” He stepped away from Yuuri’s warmth to admire his work. “Perfect.”

Yuuri looked at the ridiculous hairdo in the mirror. Viktor looped his arms around the author’s shoulders and stepped in close to rest his chin on the crook of the other’s neck. Yuuri stiffened and blushed. Even after all this time, Yuuri still grew embarrassed to be held by Viktor like this. So _cute._

“You look so handsome,” Viktor praised, half-teasing, half-serious. _“Wow._ I find it hard to believe you don’t have girls lining up at your door, wanting to be your girlfriend. With a hairstyle like this, you are simply _irresistible,_ Yuuri.”

The young Japanese man’s face bloomed brighter and he shrugged Viktor’s arms off and away, albeit smiling teasingly. _Yeah, right. You can try to butter me up as many times as you want, but I’m still not putting a dragon in my book._

Viktor pressed closer, his mouth inches away from Yuuri’s ear. _“_ _ _Please_ _ put a dragon in your book.” Yuuri was so close. Too close. He had to move away but every fiber in Viktor’s body resisted.

 _No._ Yuuri chuckled and then he got up and Viktor’s body sobbed at the loss. _Goodnight, Viktor. Time for you to skedaddle._ He reached up to tug the hairband off.

“Yeah. You’re right.” It must have been close to eleven at night. Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and squeezed it gently, briefly. “See you tomorrow.” He winked and Yuuri flushed and pushed him out the door out into the rain.

Viktor’s heart swelled as he waved goodbye to his friend. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or laugh. Just when does he fall out of the criteria for being a good friend into being a hopeless dork in love?

He needed a glass of wine. Maybe two. (Maybe three.)

* * *

He felt it. _It._ One time. He felt _it_ one time from Yuuri.

Viktor let himself into Yuuri’s bedroom. The man was slouched over his desk, typing furiously into his computer. Viktor adjusted the take-out in his arms and examined the room—Yuuri had pushed his nightstand to the other side of the room, emptied out his wastebasket, did his laundry, and added a lamp— _S_ _ _o_ metimes a change of scenery gets me inspired. It relaxes and refreshes your brain, _said Yuuri one time—and yet the author looked anything but relaxed in the calmest room of his little home.

Viktor approached and tapped his shoulder. Yuuri startled and jerked and clicked a different tab on the desktop. Then he turned around.

“Hi! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Viktor said, noticing the dark circles under Yuuri’s eyes. “I brought you food.”

Yuuri sighed deeply; slowly in through his nose and then suddenly out through his mouth. He nodded. _Thank you._ He took his box from Viktor and pushed off a few papers from his desk. He made room for his food and opened the styrofoam container of Chinese food and dug in. His eyes remained glued to the microscopic pixels covering the screen.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” After safely securing his food on the bed, Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s desk chair and pulled it away from the desk. Yuuri made a tiny noise of surprise and clutched onto his food, then skewered Viktor with a cold glare.

 _I have to work,_ he said, dark eyes narrowed.

“Of course you do. But not when you’re eating,” Viktor pointed out.

An irritated huff. _I’m already falling behind and my agent is gonna kill me if I don’t finish this soon._ He started to swivel back around but Viktor stopped him.

“Five minutes,” he persisted. “Five minutes to sit here, with me, and to talk with me, isn’t going to kill you.” Judging by the redness in Yuuri’s lovely dark eyes, it’s no doubt he’s been sitting and going at it in front of the screen for hours already. “Just sit here and eat with me, okay? Then you can go back to your work.”

Yuuri glowered at him but he ignored it. After a few more moments of silent glaring, Yuuri let out a frustrated sigh and obliged. He scooted over to the bed with his food, leaned his elbow on his knee and pressed his cheek against his palm as he slowly ate with his free hand.

They sat in silence and ate quietly. When Yuuri put down his fork, Viktor did, too. “How’s your work going?” he asked as gently as he could muster.

Yuuri scowled. _I don’t want to talk about it._ He took off his glasses and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He must be tired, Viktor figured, or angry. Or both.

“Okay,” he said out loud, pointlessly, too, since Yuuri was covering his eyes. “We don’t have to talk about it.” He was hoping to get more information about Vincent, but he wouldn’t push it. Honestly, he wouldn’t—

Yuuri dropped his hands. _I have writer’s block,_ he said miserably. _Everything sounds like shit._

“Don’t say that.”

 _I can’t finish this book. I’m going to cancel it. Or postpone it, at least. Whatever._ Yuuri ran his hands over his face and sighed once again. _Sometimes when I finish a book and publish it, it feels like sending a kid off to school for the first time. You hope it’s not going to be called a nerd, or that it won’t get bullied by the other kids because it picked its nose. That’s how I feel right now. I’m ready for death._ He pretended to put a gun to his temple and pull the trigger. Then he lowered his gaze and picked at the tines of his plastic fork.

It was strange and oddly eerie seeing Yuuri like this. Usually the man wouldn’t crack under pressure, at least as far as Viktor knew. It kinda hurt. He didn’t like this weird mood Yuuri was in; it just didn’t suit him. Viktor had to say something.

He frowned and reached across the bed to touch the thin, smooth, peachy layer of skin on Yuuri’s wrist, getting his attention. He took a deep breath. “Look,” he started. He wasn’t Yuuri’s life coach or anything like that, but he was going to try his best. “You told me one time to have a little more faith in Yukiko. I used to have faith in her, but now I don’t. Instead, I have faith in you, Yuuri.” He tapped Yuuri on the nose. “Not her. _You._ And you know what I think about your books. I love Henry. I love Olivia—“

Yuuri nodded, one jerky movement of his head. _Thank you._

“I love the story. I love it all. And I know that you can do even better.”

_Really?_

“Yes, of course. You know why?”

_Why?_

“Because you’re an _amazing_ storyteller.” Viktor smiled proudly.

He did the sign for ‘storyteller’ _—_ or at least he thought he did. But then Yuuri’s eyes went wide and he knew at that moment he definitely did not say that correctly. Uh oh. Viktor’s stomach jumped into his throat.

He shrunk back and waited for Yuuri to get offended, or to slap him, or something wild like that. But that didn’t happen. Instead Yuuri covered his mouth with his hand and started to laugh, very softly, and he blushed. _Blushed._ Dear God, what did Viktor say?

“What is it?” he asked, almost scared to ask.

Yuuri shook his head and didn’t respond, still giggling.

“No, really, what is it?”

Yuuri smiled shyly. He shook his head again. _You didn’t say ‘storyteller’. You said I’m an amazing kisser._

Fuck! Viktor’s face grew hot. “Oh, Jesus, sorry. How do you say it, then?” Yuuri signed it, and Viktor imitated it until Yuuri nodded in approval. “I’m so embarrassed,” Viktor said, and he really was.

Yuuri grinned at him. _It’s okay. And to think you were doing so well, all this time._

Maybe, Viktor thought, it wasn’t so bad to be embarrassed, as long as it made Yuuri smile like that. He took in Yuuri’s _sweet, subtle beauty_ and the weight of it was so profound Viktor wanted to cry.

 _Viktor?_ Yuuri’s smile fell a microscopic proportion.

Viktor’s gaze fell to Yuuri’s mouth. “Well,” he said without thinking. “I’m sure you’re also a lovely kisser.”

Yuuri’s face blushed and his smile turned shy. He timidly tugged the edges of his sleeves over his hands and crossed his ankle over his knee. _Thanks._ He lifted his dark lashes and peered at Viktor through them.

(Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. To test and see if that statement is true or not.) Viktor felt himself lean in instinctively.

(Yuuri leaned in, too.).

Dammit.

Viktor took a detour and aimed for Yuuri’s shoulder instead. ( _Shit_. That was too, too close.) He wrapped his arms around his friend and gave him a hug.

He felt the surprise in Yuuri’s body. (It was better this way.) Even so, Yuuri still hugged back. (It was better this way.) Even so, Yuuri still smiled so sweetly against Viktor’s shoulder. Even so, Viktor let him, and held him, and admired him.

(But Yuuri had leaned in, too.)


	6. kiss my eyelids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdyhowdyhowdy. Hope y'all had a good weekend! Let's kick the week off with chapter 6. 〔´∇｀〕Enjoy!!

**ACT 6**

_kiss my eyelids_

* * *

 

"He's  _beautiful_ ," Viktor whispered. "The most beautiful man I ever met…"

"Oh, dear." Chris sighed and typed away on his laptop.

"He is. He  _is,_ I tell you. He  _is,"_  Viktor snapped.

"Alright, Vitya, I believe you."

"He makes me  _feel_ things—"

"Yes—"

"He's sweet—"

"Yes—"

"He's smart—"

"Yes—"

"He's  _beautiful—"_

"You said that already, but yes—"

"He's... _perfect…_ yes. Absolutely perfect."

Chris smiled. "Aww, Viktor, that's sweet."

Viktor's face went warm and it  _never_  did that, never when he was thinking about someone. He stood in front of the window and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I think he's…" His tongue suddenly weighed a pound in his mouth. "He's…"

Chris smirked. "The one?" He sipped his tea.

Viktor blushed and blushed and blushed. He coughed. "Jesus Christ," he said.

His friend chuckled low in his throat. "I'm not testing you. I'm just curious."

"I know, I know. I'm just...well," Viktor blabbered. He didn't know what to think. Every word that came to him sounded impossible, implausible, or just flat-out ridiculous. He chewed on his thumb nervously even though  _Viktor_   _Nikiforov_ doesn't get nervous. No man named  _Viktor Nikiforov_ has any knowledge whatsoever with aching hearts, blushing faces, twiddling thumbs, and both feet surgically implanted in his mouth.

"He calls me his best friend, Chris," he said. "That's what he calls me, the sweet boy. And—he's—"

"Perfect."

It was one word but it was the best word and it was the perfect word and Viktor exploded. " _YES,"_ he wailed. His fingers dug into his scalp and he broke down. " _PERFECT. HE IS SO FUCKING PERFECT AND ADORABLE I—"_

"The neighbours, Viktor."

"—he's so  _adorable,"_ Viktor stage-whispered. "I just want to wrap him up and steal him away and  _love_   _him_."

"That sounds like kidnapping. Don't do that," Chris advised. "because it won't be me bailing you out of prison."

"I almost kissed him," Viktor sobbed. "He was so  _close_  I could have done it if I moved a tiny bit forward."

"But you—didn't."

" _I didn't!"_ Viktor keened.

Chris shrugged and sipped his tea. "Just do it next time."

Viktor whipped around. "Next time? What do you mean? You think there'll be a 'next time'?"

"Sure." The response was so lukewarm. How annoying!

"That doesn't sound convincing, Chris!"

Chris sighed. "Viktor, come here."

Viktor stomped over to the couch and sat down.

"Do you like him?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to hold him?"

"Yes."

"Please him?"

" _Yes."_

"So kiss him next time." Chris fluttered his lashes.

"But—"

"No buts. I'm  _sick_  and  _tired_  of hearing you  _whinge_ and  _whine_  and  _moan_ and  _groan_  about the things you could have done but didn't. The French have a term for it—" Chris placed a thoughtful finger on his chin. " _L'esprit d'escalier._ When you think about what you could have said in the past when obviously it's too late." He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, go kiss that poor man."

It couldn't be that easy. Chris made it seem so juvenile, his reaction. "But—"

"No."

"But—"

" _No."_

" _BUT—"_

"I refuse to listen to this any longer." Chris took his earphones out of his pocket. "Kiss him or don't kiss him. The choice is yours." He plugged in the earbuds and lifted an elegant eyebrow. "Think about it this way: what would  _Henry_  do? Hmm?" Chris smiled and sipped his tea and turned on his music and went back to his laptop.

Viktor sat there, boggled, eyes popping out of his head.  _What would Henry do?_ He sure hadn't thought about that! What  _would_  Henry do?

Hmm.

Viktor abruptly jumped off the couch and grabbed his phone. He leaped into his room and sent a text to Yuuri.

_Yes_. Henry would do this. If he could do it, then Viktor can do it, too.

The world's his oyster.

* * *

_Book three is a—quest narrative,_ Yuuri said as they took a stroll together, Caesar happily padding along. It was the next day.

"Like  _Heart of Darkness?_ " Viktor asked.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then lowered them as he smirked.  _I was thinking more like Super Mario, but that works, too._ He was back to his usual quietly intelligent and playful ways, much to the delight of Viktor.

Viktor laughed. "Well, tell me how it's like Mario."

_It's a venture into the unknown with a goal in mind. Vincent's goal is to infiltrate the prison to break out Henry so he could one day return to Olivia. Mario ventures out into the unknown to infiltrate numerous castles to save Princess Peach._

"Do you think she ever gets tired of getting kidnapped all the time? I know I'd be sick of it."

_That's beside the point. Focus, Viktor._

"Right, right, carry on."

_Marlow goes on a physical journey, but it's also personal and emotional. Maybe we'll find that Vincent will experience something similar. Maybe he'll encounter something...personal and emotional._

"Ooh. Sounds interesting. A hidden stash of the royal family's gold? Another precious stone, like the one Olivia was given by that old witchy woman? Or perhaps a  _beautiful_  damsel in distress?" The corners of Viktor's lips turned up dreamily. "Will Vincent find the woman of his dreams?"

Caesar tugged on the leash and urged them down a quiet trail through the trees. Yuuri smiled mysteriously.  _What do you think?_

"I don't know," Viktor said.

_Take a guess._

"My heart tells me yes. My brain, not so much."

_Why not?_

"There's a little voice in my head," Viktor said as he kicked a pebble out of his way. They slowly trekked downhill, and he could see the crest of the river from where he stood. "and I like to think it's my voice of reason. It tells me...realistic outcomes. Know what I mean?" Yuuri nodded. "Yeah. And I trust it because it has yet to fail me."

_Wow,_ said Yuuri.  _Impressive._ His smile disappeared and he turned uncharacteristically somber.  _I wish I had a voice of reason. Must be nice._ He scratched his jawline and his shoulders slumped a bit.

Viktor faltered. "Really?" Gosh. Maybe the voice of reason thing wasn't something he should have mentioned. His heart sank into his chest and if someone asked why it had sunk so low, he wouldn't be able to explain himself.

He never once wondered if Yuuri wished he could hear. Did he want to? God knows it wasn't easy for him to get around, and maybe Yuuri's used to it, but—well, it hurt Viktor's heart nevertheless.

He peeked at Yuuri through the corner of his eye and instantly felt like shit. Poor Yuuri.

Guiltily, Viktor looked away.

Yuuri turned to him, and looked at him incredulously, as if he were stunned as to why Viktor would ask such a thing.  _Well, obviously not, Viktor, of course not!_ he said, furrowing his brows.  _I wouldn't be able to hear it! What would be the point of having that?_

Their feet stopped moving. They reached the bottom of the trail. The river spread out before them, wide as a valley, twinkling at them and reflecting the pearly clouds miles up above.

The river quieted down to a murmur, then rose up to a peaceful chatter. Yuuri smirked. Viktor was pretty sure his mouth had flopped open like a moron.

It was so outrageously out-of-the-blue and so outrageously  _relieving_ and Viktor started laughing so hard his stomach hurt and he bent forward and put his hands on his knees. At the same time, Caesar shot forward, yanking the leash from his hand. The dog barreled towards the water and leaped in, his lithe body gracefully shooting through the air. Then he fell in and the impact spouted out water every which way, droplets finding their way on Viktor and Yuuri's shoes.

"You're evil," Viktor laughed. "That was so mean! Here I was feeling bad for you because I can hear and you can't, and I thought—"

But then Yuuri lost the smile, and his forehead creased. His eyes narrowed and he gently stopped Viktor in his tracks. Yuuri grimaced and knit his brows together.  _Why would you feel bad?_

Viktor stopped and inhaled and was  _confused_ all of a sudden. He wet his lips a tad nervously and his brain scrambled for an answer. Was this a trick question? "Well...you..."

Yuuri didn't wait for a reply. He grabbed Viktor's arm  _hard_ and jerked him towards the riverbank. With a strength Viktor hadn't anticipated, he felt a hard shove on his back and he soon came to realize that his feet were on the ground one second and the next they were in the air. He fell into the frigid water with a squeal.

He sat on his ass like a loser and through his wet bangs he saw Yuuri giggling at him. He had a sweet laugh, but it was even sweeter today. Yuuri's mouth curved up and his teeth flashed down at Viktor, and he was like a cloud, Viktor decided, with his ivory smile and wispy hair and he was like a cloud because he wasn't the sun, Viktor decided, because the sun is painful to look at. But it never hurt looking at Yuuri.

_Don't be an asshole!_ Yuuri signed furiously after the giggle fit, except he was smiling and that couldn't be legal.  _I'm sick of people feeling bad for me. I'm not helpless, I'm not handicapped, and I'm not stupid. I can do literally anything anyone else can do, I just can't hear. You don't have to feel sorry for me._ And then he smiled a bit sadly.

Viktor parted his wet bangs to peek at Yuuri better. "I don't think you're stupid or helpless. I know that you're not handicapped."

Yuuri sighed and his cheeks blushed and he  _blossomed._ He said:  _I know you know. I meant 'you' as in—not 'you' specifically. Like—'you' in general…_

Viktor grinned and got on his knees and reached forward and up. He  _yanked_  Yuuri close, snatching his hands up and  _yanking yanking yanking_ and Yuuri's eyes flew open wide and he dug his heels into the soft earth and shook his head  _nonononono_  and tried pulling his hands from Viktor's but Viktor was stronger and he  _yanked_ until Yuuri yelped and lost his balance and tumbled. Now they both sat on their asses in the cold, murky water.

Dripping wet, Yuuri's hoodie blackened from the moisture. His dark hair flopped into his eyes and onto his glasses and he looked  _so outrageously_ cute there  _had_  to be a law against this, there just  _had_ to be.

Viktor pushed Yuuri's bangs just enough so the other could see him sign. "You look funny when you're wet."

Yuuri rolled his eyes and smirked.  _You look funnier._

"You're like a wet duck, but a very small, sweet little one."

_Really. A wet duck._ Yuuri chortled despite his fingers starting to shiver.  _Is that seriously the first thing that came to mind?_

"Yes." Viktor smiled brilliantly. He took in a quick breath and he was bold. His voice was soft. "You're very cute."

Yuuri offered a little half-smile, shyly wringing his hands.  _You're cute, too._

Viktor's chest filled with melted chocolate but he was brave and he tried his best to channel Henry's courage through his voice. "Your hands are shaking. Feeling a little chilly, sweetheart?" he teased flirtatiously.

Some shade of fuchsia traveled up Yuuri's face at the term of endearment.  _Yes,_ he admitted,  _a bit._

"Well, you ought to get used to it.  _This_ is all your fault."  _This_ referring to their soaked clothes, skin, and hair.

Yuuri pouted.  _Maybe if you hadn't provoked me like you did, this wouldn't have happened._

"Oh, so it's my fault."

Yuuri nodded.  _So,_ he said, his dark eyes glistening behind his thick lenses.  _You should take responsibility._

And Viktor's eyes widened a bit. Responsibility? A jolt of excitement ran from his toes to his fingers and it was his turn to smirk. What sort of responsibility was Yuuri talking about? Jesus Christ, his face grew red as his mind traveled to the instinctive answer to that question. "Oh? Should I?"

He expected Yuuri to blush furiously and whine and get all shy. He expected Yuuri's sweet face to drip embarrassment from his bold statement. He expected many things, but none of them pulled through because Yuuri looked at him with these soft, smoky eyes with slightly lowered lids and a gently flushed face. He nodded again.

Viktor licked his lips and his mind raced  _salaciously._ "Tell me more."

Yuuri inched closer by scooting on his knees. He bit his lip andholy shit. Yuuri was flirting back. Viktor's sweet, innocent Yuuri maybe wasn't as pure as he came across as. Yuuri reached out hesitantly, and almost _seductively_ ran his hands over the front of Viktor's jacket. The warmth from his hands burned a mark onto Viktor's chest, branding him and sizzling his skin. Viktor held his breath and Yuuri smiled. He pulled his hands back.  _I think you're smart enough to figure the rest out_ _—sweetheart._

Viktor's brain did figure eights in his skull at a hundred miles per hour. "I'm never feeling bad for you ever again," he said. "Not ever."

Yuuri beamed and shook his head and maybe he was the sun, maybe just a little.  _You're ridiculous._ And he looked at Viktor. And didn't look away.

Viktor looked at his eyes. Droplets of water caught on his lashes and the lens of his glasses. A trickle traveled down and ended its journey at the corner of Yuuri's mouth and Viktor wanted to catch that droplet into his mouth. He lifted his eyes back up to Yuuri's and Yuuri gazed back with  _wide, endlessly patient eyes._

(And then, it clicked. He knew what Henry would do.)

His heart was beating so fast he couldn't catch a decent breath, not when Yuuri was looking at him, looking at him like that. His mind filled with unasked-for thoughts, thoughts that pushed the boundaries between platonic and romantic and something more, but now it buzzed with anticipation and excitement and  _oh—_ Yuuri moved in closer again.

The tips of their noses brushed. Viktor could feel Yuuri's breath on his cheek and wondered if Yuuri could feel his breath, too. Viktor's hand found Yuuri's soft, soft cheek and Yuuri's hand clutched Viktor's jacket. ( _Close.)_

Yuuri's lashes fluttered, then closed. ( _So close.)_

Their lips met.


	7. i fell in love with you one night in september

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....... Ψ(｀▽´)Ψ heuheuehueheueh.  
>  That is all.  
> Have a great weekend! See y'all next week.

**ACT 7**

_i fell in love with you one night in september_

* * *

_'"Vincent—" Henry tried to grab the soldier's arm, but it was pulled out of his line of reach._

_"No, Henry. You can't stop me. You know this is what I have to do." Vincent pushed his golden hair out of his face and fixated his steely cobalt gaze onto his comrade. "If I don't do this now," he said gruffly. "I won't ever do it. I know you don't understand, but I can't go back with you. You know he's still in there; we both know he's in there, somewhere, lost and cold and worried about us. I can't leave him like this." He closed his eyes briefly and took in a breath of the damp, frosty air. Hiring Roman was one of the best things he had ever done. "Not when he means so much to me."_

_Henry was not stricken with shock or anger or disgust like Vincent had imagined him to be. Instead, the snow caught in his dark hair and he did understand then. "I'm not going without you," he said._

_Vincent clenched his jaw. "Then I'll—"_

_"I'm not going without him, either. Because I'm going with you." Henry stepped in and clasped a heavy hand over Vincent's shoulder. "I can see how much he's worth in your eyes. I understand because I think the same way about Olivia, and I would do anything to ensure she is safe from harm." He nodded._

_Vincent's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. "Henry…"_

_"On my honour, I will lay my life on the line for you, you who have done so much for me as well. You saved my life." The corners of Henry's mouth lifted. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be in that prison cell, rotting away and wasting my life. For that, I am forever indebted to you." He set his chin, and Vincent saw the genuity in his eyes._

_"Thank you," he breathed. "I can't be any more grateful." Truly, he couldn't be.'_

"So sweet!" Viktor cried.

_Nah…_

"It is! I think I might cry."

_Don't cry! We don't need to flood the earth any more than it already is,_ Yuuri teased as he leaned in to kiss Viktor's cheek.

"Tell me, Yuuri. Are they going to save Roman? Will he be okay?" Viktor looked at Yuuri with wet, wide eyes.

Yuuri shrugged.

Viktor pouted. "Boo. Can't even tell your wonderful boyfriend the ending?"

Yuuri smirked. _If my boyfriend really was wonderful, he wouldn't go snooping around trying to get me to spoil the ending for him. That wouldn't be fun at all, would it?_

Viktor let out a dramatically elongated sigh and carded his fingers briefly through Caesar's fur, whose body gently lifted and lowered every time he snored. "We've been through this. I'm not you. And I would love for you to tell me the ending."

_No. No cheating._ Yuuri got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen. Viktor followed after him promptly. Yuuri returned the tub of ice cream to its place in the freezer before turning to Viktor.

He stepped in close and wound his arms around Viktor's shoulders loosely; instinctively, Viktor's hands followed suit and rested lightly on Yuuri's waist. Yuuri's back bumped against the edges of the counter behind him.

It had been a long time since their first kiss at the pond. Ever since then, there was something different about Viktor; something was _off_ and something was _peculiar_ and he was not _all right_ because he was _better_ than _all right._ Chris noticed it, too—"The Norwegians have a word for it," he'd said. _"Forelsket."_ —but to be honest, Viktor didn't really care what it was called. All he cared about was that he felt it, deep inside him, felt the _forelsket_ bury itself into the very top layer of his skin and maybe it's contagious; maybe Yuuri can catch it, too; or maybe he's already got it.

_I'm worried,_ Yuuri said as he pulled his arms back, and suddenly, too.

Viktor also pulled his arms back. "Worried about what?" He can forego the _forelsket_ for now.

_What else? The stupid book._ Yuuri paced around his kitchen, stopping to lean against the fridge. He sighed heavily. _I'm worried that nobody will want to read it._

"Are you kidding? You have millions of fans. They've been waiting all this time just to read what you put out next."

_Sure, but…_ Yuuri shook his head quickly. He looked at Viktor and sucked his lips between his teeth. _This is the first time I'd be putting a gay character into my book._ He pushed off the fridge and stood in front of the island counter and leaned forward on top of it.

"And?" Viktor wasn't sure where Yuuri's worry was originating from.

_And…_ Yuuri sighed again and paused briefly to rub a hand over his cheek, something he did when he was nervous. He sighed yet again and shook his head again. _What if once they read it and find out one of the characters is gay, they'll stop reading?_

Viktor frowned. What a silly thing to be worried about. He scrunched up his nose in irritation. "Yuuri, seriously? That's what you're worried about?"

Yuuri furrowed his brows, a crease forming between them. _Yeah? It's a pretty big deal._

"I really don't think so. The times are changing...I don't think anyone's going to bite your head off for putting in one—well, technically, two gay characters."

_I'm already afraid people think I'm way too conservative. Now I'm afraid they'll think I'm too liberal._ Yuuri huffed. _Maybe I shouldn't have changed anything at all. Maybe things were fine when everyone was straight._ His face dropped. _Maybe I'm making things worse._

"Please." Viktor rolled his eyes; how melodramatic Yuuri could be sometimes! "You sound like you already know there is going to be a controversy."

_It could happen._

"I highly doubt that. Really, darling, be reasonable."

_I am being reasonable._

"No, you're not. I think you're overthinking things again."

Yuuri scowled at him. _You wouldn't understand, you're not a writer. Stop pretending like you know everything._

Viktor went tight-lipped. He nodded briskly. For some reason, that hurt more than it probably should have. It was a fair statement, though, because he really didn't know much at all. "Okay. Fine." He folded his arms and turned away. So he didn't know a whole lot. So what? He was just trying to help. He moved to the window and stayed there.

He heard yet another deep sigh from behind him. Soft footsteps padded his way and then Yuuri touched his shoulder. Viktor was a bit upset and he shouldn't grant Yuuri this, shouldn't give his attention, not when he was being obtuse. But this was Yuuri and Viktor just could not ignore him. He turned to his boyfriend, arms still crossed firmly over his chest.

Yuuri blushed and looked so guilty. He twiddled his fingers for a second, his eyes flicking back and forth between the hole in Viktor's shoe, where his heart had squeezed down his leg and popped through it and floated up to the ceiling like a helium balloon, and Viktor's eyes.

_I'm sorry,_ Yuuri said finally. _That was rude of me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings._

"You didn't," Viktor lied, not passing a single second to be stubborn.

Yuuri winced. _Even so, I still feel like I was being pretty mean to you. I'm sorry._ His dark eyes dropped down to his hands. He shuffled his feet.

Viktor. Could not. Resist him.

Yuuri's lashes lowered because Viktor caressed his cheek with the back of his hand; his knuckles brushed against warm and slightly dry skin and—maybe Gatsby wasn't crazy after all, if he felt this way, too, touching and feeling and being around Daisy. Either way, Viktor drank in the sensation, his thumb caressing against the corner of his beautiful boyfriend's mouth.

Yuuri smiled and kissed the thumb when it landed on the center of his lips. His brown eyes opened and Viktor had never felt so otherworldly. (Was this even real life?) "It's okay, Yuuri. No hard feelings."

Yuuri tilted his head and his eyes softened and his mouth softened and he wordlessly invited Viktor in closer, closer, closer.

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri's waist. Yuuri was here and hot and close and Viktor felt so, so selfish because he had all this to himself. Viktor leaned forward even more and dragged his lips over the curve of Yuuri's ear, smelling his hair. Yuuri's breath wavered slightly and his breath swam over the expanse of Viktor's neck and his breath was warm and Viktor melted and Yuuri's left hand clutched his waist and pulled him closer.

—Yuuri pulled his arms back. _What are you thinking about, right now?_

It was a good question to pose. Viktor would answer if he knew how to; Yuuri kept looking at him and distracting him and his mind processed nothing even the slightest bit intelligent. His fingers guided Yuuri closer, pulling him flush against his own body. His eyes never left Yuuri's. "Just thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am to have you."

The second after he said that, he realized he hadn't signed while doing so. "Oh," he said, suddenly a little embarrassed he'd forgotten so easily. He retracted his hands and raised them up. "Sorry. Uh, I was just thinking about—"

But Yuuri cupped his face, then, with both hands, closed his eyes, and kissed him deeply. He giggled as he pulled away, and sweetly, too. _I can read lips a little. Remember?_ His face blushed and he smiled coyly. _I think I'm getting better at it._

God, Viktor was so in love with this man. "So you understood what I said?" he whispered.

Yuuri nodded slowly and lowered his lashes to half-mast.

"Good. Now, read my lips." Viktor traced his hands over Yuuri's hips. Yuuri gulped, the flush traveling down to his neck and spreading, and Viktor never took his eyes off him.

"You're gorgeous," he said. "sexy, _and_ handsome."

Yuuri immediately made a face and rolled his eyes and tried to push Viktor away but he was blushing again and Viktor held on fast. "Hold on, I'm not done. You're also sweet, and kind, and smart, and talented." He smoothed his thumbs over the curve of Yuuri's jeans. "And your book is going to sell big. Everyone is going to love it because you are one of the most amazing writers I have ever read. People will talk about it for months and they're going to love every single word they read. I know they will. So don't be worried, okay?"

It would have been a more tender moment if Yuuri hadn't given him such a blank look. _You lost me after 'talented'._

Viktor smiled and repeated what he said, signing this time. At the end of it, Yuuri's sweet face reddened and he smiled and he pulled Viktor into a tight, warm hug.

Yuuri's cheek pressed against the junction between neck and shoulder, and Viktor's insides turned to mush. It reminded him of that scene where Henry and Olivia embraced one last time before parting ways, where Yuuri used delicate, beautiful words to describe the feeling Henry felt when pure emotion galloped through his senses and made him shudder. It was powerful and Viktor's knees buckled under the weight of adoration he felt for Yuuri.

He had half a mind to kiss Yuuri senseless and stuff a hand up his shirt. Or down his pants. Either one would work; preferably both. The temptation grew too much to bear. His hands slid down.

Yuuri sighed softly. Viktor could almost feel the sigh on his tongue as he tasted Yuuri's neck, affectionately pressing kisses into his skin and absorbing his warmth. Yuuri clung gently to him. Writer's hands squeezed his shoulders and Viktor's hands squeezed and cupped the contours of what resided below Yuuri's back. Another soft, sighing moan—a quiet noise Yuuri made only when he was feeling really good. Viktor envisioned Yuuri's physique under his clothes as he sucked softly around the edge of his boyfriend's jaw. It was just too much. Everything was just too much. Yuuri was too much.

Viktor lifted his head and pressed his lips to Yuuri's. He tilted his chin to deepen the kiss and Yuuri cupped his face. He sucked Yuuri's bottom lip into his mouth and his fingers trailed up, slipping up under the hem of Yuuri's t-shirt, and outlining every inch of his butter-soft skin. Viktor ran his hands over smooth skin on top of hard muscle and greedily swallowed the little sighing moan as Yuuri arched into his touch. Yuuri parted his legs and Viktor stepped in closer and he slipped his tongue into Yuuri's mouth and he tried to memorize every line and curve and twist of Yuuri's body as Yuuri's breath quickened and the heat between their bodies grew and shifted and widened and intensified and—

Yuuri gently pulled away. He was so embarrassed as he put his hands on Viktor's chest and forced them into a more appropriate distance from each other, much to the dismay of Viktor. Viktor pouted, but nonetheless he wanted to know why Yuuri wanted to stop.

His cheeks were scarlet as Yuuri wet his lips. _I...don't...have...protection,_ he signed very slowly, very shyly.

Viktor offered a cheeky smile. "That's alright, sweetheart. Would you like me to stop by the pharmacy and get some? I don't mind."

_No, I'll go myself. I have to pick up a few groceries anyway._ Yuuri smiled softly. _Can I say something?_

"Of course. Anything."

_You're a really good kisser._ Yuuri licked his lips again. _A really good one._

Viktor chuckled quietly. Yuuri was too precious for his own good. "If you come back quick, I'll show you what else I can do with my mouth. I'm not just good at kissing." He ran his finger over the contour of Yuuri's lips.

The sweet author bloomed carnation red and his smile was so sweet and so shy. _I won't take long._ He took Viktor's hand.

Viktor lifted Yuuri's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Go on, then."

And Yuuri slipped out of his arms and made his way to the front door, Viktor following close behind. He watched his lover slide into his light jacket and shoes and Yuuri put a hand on the doorknob when he was ready. He turned to look over his shoulder at Viktor, his dark eyes twinkling. He offered a sultry smile. _See you soon._

Viktor melted into a puddle of hot goo, right there on the floor. "See you soon."

Yuuri slipped out the door.

Truthfully, Viktor didn't even know Yuuri could—was allowed to—drive, and he speculated on this new fact when he heard the engine rev and the clunky machine chug along down the road. He made himself comfortable on the couch with the dog and waited.

He would always wait for Yuuri.

* * *

Seven minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and Viktor graciously got off the couch to answer it.

He opened the door, and a young man that hardly looked a day over twenty-one stood there. The young man's lovely tan skin was flushed as if he'd been in a hurry getting here, but his dark eyes widened in surprise as he saw Viktor. Almost sheepishly, this young man signed, _Hello?_

Cautiously, Viktor responded. _Hi. Can I help you?_

The young man looked him up and down quickly, assessing him briefly. He made a noise of confusion, then continued to sign. _Are you deaf?_

To which Viktor replied with: _No, I'm hearing._

"Oh, thank God," the young man said loudly and adjusted the backward-fitting cap on his head. "Not that I have an issue with it or anything. It's just a lot easier not to sign, you know?" Then he put his hands on his hips. "And who are you, exactly?"

Viktor lifted a brow. "Excuse me?"

"I've never seen you around here before. What's your name? What are you doing here? How do you know Yuuri?" the young man demanded as he scrutinized Viktor with a hard look.

Viktor was hardly even fazed, but the boy was kind of cute. "I'm Viktor, Yuuri's boyfriend. He just left a few min—"

The young man gasped. "You're Viktor? Oh, my God, he has told me so much about you, but he never told me you were so hot! Well, he did, but I didn't believe him because honestly, he has the worst taste in men, to be honest."

"Thank...you?" Viktor said as the young man pushed past him into the house. Hopefully, he wasn't letting some strange, crazed fan of Yuuri's inside. He closed the door, blinking a few times as the young man made himself right at home on Yuuri's couch. "And...who are you?"

"Phichit. I'm Yuuri's best friend...and agent." The young man—well, Phichit—took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. "I've been Yuuri's agent since day one. I read over everything he wants to publish, I get some people to edit it, I edit it, the whole shebang. He's hopeless with his grammar, I swear to God he's only getting worse." Phichit took out his phone and briefly examined his reflection. "Anyway, so nice to finally meet you. I've been dying to meet you ever since Yuuri mentioned he had a crush on you. He hasn't had a crush since middle school, so this is a pretty big deal." Phichit's eyes went wide and he glanced furtively at Viktor. "Um...you _do_ know what kinda job Yuuri has, right?"

Viktor smiled and made his way over to sit across from Phichit in the living room chair. "Yes, I know who he is. I've been a big, big fan since his first book."

"Cool." Phichit grinned. "Did he show you part three yet?"

"He did! Oh, my God, seriously, I'm in love," Viktor squealed. It was one thing to praise Yuuri's writing directly, and another to squeal about it with someone who is just as big a fan as he is. Chris couldn't care less, so this moment was actually quite refreshing for Viktor. "Vincent is a really cool character, don't you think?" It never hurt to self-promote every now and then.

"Hell yeah, he's cool. And, uh, super sweet and buff as fuck? Need me a man like that." Phichit fanned himself with a hand. "If and when Yuuri's books get adapted into a movie, I wanna be the one who picks who gets to be Vincent. Brad Pitt, maybe? But Brad Pitt from 2004. Like, Brad Pitt in _Troy,_ with the long hair, and the chiselled abs, and maybe we could get him to roll around in butter to make his skin all super shiny which is pretty similar to what they did in _300_ with Gerard Butler, who is _so_ totally yummy in that movie and super fit and oiled up—why do everybody's eyes glaze over when I talk about this?" he whined.

Viktor blinked hard once. Twice. "Oh, no, _no—"_ He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "No, they weren't glazing, they—they were resting!" he assured. "No, ah, I think Brad Pitt would be a great fit." That was a lie. He thought Brad Pitt was a little too pretentious for his likings.

"Thank you," Phichit sighed, his lips pouty. "Most people just stop listening when I go on about hot guys."

Maybe take a hint, then. But Viktor doesn't say that. Instead, he smiled and shook his head. "Personally, I think Brad Pitt from _Ocean's Eleven_ could be Vincent, too."

Phichit's expression did a one-eighty. He suddenly beamed ear-to-ear and nodded appreciatively. He pistol-pointed. "I like you." He rolled over onto his back and lifted his feet onto the armrest. He crossed his ankles. _"Anyway,_ if we do get a Brad Pitt from over a decade ago to play Vincent, I'm so going to cry my eyes out when we kill him."

"Hahaha, what?"

"That ending though! Yuuri kills him off!" Phichit suddenly seethed. "How could he do that to Vincent? And to Roman? Now Roman's going to be left all alone. God, I'm _so_ mad!"

Viktor's stomach twisted in all the wrong ways. "He...killed him?"

Phichit went quiet, then glanced at Viktor with wide eyes. "You...you didn't know?"

"No. I didn't even know he wrote the ending already."

"Shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit," Phichit mumbled, a hand lifting to press against his cheek. "Oh, God, I totally spoiled it for you. Me and my big mouth...Yuuri's going to kill me." He hesitated slightly. "Uh, Viktor, pretend I never said anything, okay? Oh, my God, he's going to kill me. I came over here to discuss the ending with him, actually, to see if he was really okay with it. I'm so sorry, Viktor, I didn't mean to spoil it."

It just didn't make sense. He felt sick to his stomach as the sense of betrayal and confusion washed over him. Did Yuuri really just kill the character based on Viktor? Why would he do such a thing? Did he kill Vincent because he was gay? Or because he was similar to Viktor? His head spun. Sure, it was just a book, but—all that time spent sitting down with Yuuri as they, together, created Vincent, down the drain? It felt like a giant slap across the face. He couldn't stay here anymore.

Viktor shook his head and got up. "Excuse me, Phichit, but I have to go. Something—important has come to my attention." He strode over to the door and retrieved his coat, slipping it on. "It was nice to meet you, though."

"Oh—you, too." Phichit sounded slightly disappointed. "Just—please don't mention anything to Yuuri. Please?"

Like hell he wouldn't. Viktor smiled tightly. "See you around." He adjusted his collar roughly and left the house abruptly.


	8. feels like yesterday; maybe it was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you do fellow children. I have returned with chapter 8.  
> Their story is nearly complete. I'm veryveryvery thankful for those who have read this far, given kudos, and commented. Thank u I owe u all a baked potato.  
> Please enjoy. uwu

**ACT 8**

_feels like yesterday; maybe it was_

* * *

"There must be a reason why he did it," Chris said. "Perhaps you shouldn't take it personally."

"No  _shit_  there's a reason, Chris. How can I not take it personally? That character is almost literally me!" With every minute that passed ever since Viktor came home, his voice raised in both volume and pitch. He was angry. "We spent so much time together making sure he was perfect and  _this_  is the thanks I get?"

Chris sighed. "Viktor, calm down—"

"No! I don't expect  _you_  to understand, of all people, but this means a lot to me, okay? He really hurt my feelings." Viktor gritted his teeth hard. "It's not fair."

"Will you go talk to him, then? I think you sh—"

"Chris, I'm not going to talk to him. I don't want to. What if this is all just a game to him? He sucks people in with his beauty and his charm and—and then he creates a character based off them, and then he kills them and then dumps them like nothing. Maybe this is his way of breaking up with me, I don't know." Viktor dug his fingers in his hair and pulled in frustration. "I thought we had something."

"Maybe you did. Maybe you still do. So go t—"

"No!"

"Alright, fine. Don't." Chris stuffed his face in—oh, the irony—a romance novel. "I'm not saying anything."

Viktor scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry, do you think I'm just being  _dramatic_  again?"

"No, actually. You know what? I've been keeping my mouth shut for a long time, so now I'm just going to say what I've been meaning to say." Chris tossed his book onto the coffee table and the  _smack_  of contact was loud and angry. He almost never got upset, at anything. This surely was a surprise. "I'm sick of talking to you lately, because all you talk about is that boy. Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri—'Yuuri this, Yuuri that, I love him so much, oh no, he's being mean to me, oh no, but he's so sweet! But he's so mean!' Viktor, I'm  _sick_  of hearing it. You barely spend time with me anymore, and I've been working my ass off to provide for  _you_  since you're not walking your boyfriend's dog anymore and you're too good to handle a real job. Give me a break," he muttered, and got up off the couch.

Now Viktor felt guilt spread up his face. Maybe he really had been acting like a jerk lately. "Oh, Chris…"

"I deserve better than this." And with that, Chris disappeared into his room without another sound.

Defeated, Viktor slumped onto the couch. A sigh escaped his mouth and he blinked back moisture in his eyes, but he wasn't sure why the tears were even there. Were they because of Yuuri? Because of Chris? Or both. Probably both.

His heart hurt. He couldn't even agree on the possibility of Phichit being incorrect or pulling a prank on him because that would make even less sense. Yuuri fucking killed him. That was no accident. Everything Yuuri put down on paper had intent, had a purpose, had a reason for being there.

Viktor didn't want to think about it anymore.

* * *

 **Y:** Hey what happened? I came home and you weren't there

 **Y:** Phichit said you left for some reason

 **Y:** What's going on?

 **Y:** Heeeeeey

 **Y:**  Vityaaa where did you go?

 **Y:** :'(

* * *

 **Y:** Heyy how come you're not answering my texts? Are you sick?

 **Y:** Pls respond. I kinda miss you, you dork

* * *

 **Y:**  Hellooooo

 **Y:** Anyone there?

 **Y:**  I would call you, but there are a million reasons why it wouldn't work out lol

 **Y:** Where are you

 **Y:** Seriously. I want to see you

* * *

 **Y:** Hey. Are you mad at me?

 **Y:** Please talk to me. It's been 3 whole days and you still haven't replied.

 **Y:** If something's the matter, I'd really like for you to tell me about it. Please come over

* * *

With each day that passed, Viktor found it more and more difficult to resist. His thumb rested over the SEND button on more than one occasion. Every single time that happened, some deep cauldron of stubbornness far back in his head compelled him not to respond.

Instead, he unplugged. He turned off his phone and continued to spend his days on Chris' couch, looking out the window and trying to understand. Of course, he knew he wouldn't truly be able to understand unless he asked Yuuri directly, but Viktor was a man, and maybe a selfish, stubborn one at that. When he said he wasn't going to talk to Yuuri, he kept his word no matter how hard it was to refrain from stoking the flame.

Yuuri stopped texting after a while. Chris barely said a word to him now. Viktor wondered how long he would be able to put up with this before he lost his mind, or caved in.

* * *

Viktor entered Chris' apartment, took off his shoes, and took off his coat. He smoothed his sweater down and figured a warm shower was well-deserved after a day of scavenging for jobs.

He stepped into the living room. And his heart leapt into his throat.

"Viktor," said Chris flatly. "So kind of you to join us."

Beside him on the couch, Yuuri gazed with sad brown eyes.

Viktor stiffened and his blood turned into ice. He stared at Yuuri for a moment before flicking his eyes to Chris. "What's he doing here?"

Chris pursed his lips. "You should know why he's here." He reached over towards Yuuri and put a hand on his shoulder. "This young man tells me he searched high and low to find out where you lived. Spent most nights thinking about you. Couldn't sleep, didn't eat, and didn't write, either." His jade eyes narrowed. "Says  _you_  were not talking to him."

Viktor bristled. Why did he have to be attacked the second he got home? "That's right. I wasn't."

Yuuri looked at him, eyes pleading. Viktor didn't want to be mad anymore. He wanted to sit on the couch next to him and pull him onto his lap and kiss him. He hated when Yuuri was sad, but Viktor couldn't just forget what Yuuri had done to him. Viktor chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek and tried not to look Yuuri's way.

Chris sighed, and flashed Yuuri an apologetic look, and then squeezed his shoulder and he rose. "Right, well. I don't wish to get in between you two; I hope you both can settle this right here, right now." He gave Viktor one final hard look, and then retreated into his room, shutting the door behind him.

And then it was just Yuuri and Viktor. Viktor spotted a looseleaf on the coffee table, half of the writing in Yuuri's tiny scribbles, and the other half in Chris' flowing script.

They looked at each other. Then Yuuri moved his hands.  _Why didn't you answer my texts?_

Viktor scowled. "I was angry with you."

 _Why?_  Yuuri's eyes widened with alarm.

The truth had to come out. Viktor blinked hard and his eyes felt slightly damp. "When I was waiting for you, your friend came over. And we started talking about your book."

Yuuri nodded slowly.

Viktor placed his hands on his hips for one, two, three, five seconds. Then he inhaled sharply. "He didn't seem to take too kindly to you killing Vincent."

Yuuri's shoulders drooped. His face fell and paled. He anxiously cracked his knuckles and wet his lips.  _So he told you how it ends?_

Viktor crossed his arms.

Yuuri sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. He seemed to think over what he was going to say next. He opened his eyes.  _I don't know what to tell you. Yes, Vincent does die, but that has nothing to do with you._

"Nothing to do with me? Nothing? How can you say that, Yuuri? As if Vincent wasn't almost exactly based off of me? And then you go and kill him like it's not even a big deal?"

_Viktor, it's just a book. It has nothing to do with you and I, in real life._

"Oh, it has everything to do with real life. A normal person wouldn't make a character based off someone they care about just to kill them off. That really hurt my feelings, Yuuri."

Yuuri's face flooded with colour, but he was beginning to look less guilty and more annoyed.  _I would never kill off any of my characters just because I didn't like them. Everything happens for a reason. If you could read the rest of my book, you'd know why he ends up dying._

"I don't want to read the rest of it. Not anymore."

 _Okay, that's fine, so don't._ He said that so nonchalantly, but Viktor knew Yuuri was hurt, too, by the way his fingers shook ever so slightly.  _I don't understand why you're making such a big deal over a fictional character in a book._

"Maybe because I inspired him? Maybe because I like him as a character? Maybe because I can connect and relate to him emotionally? God, you know, for an author, you really have no idea how your audience feels!"

 _Can you relax? I can't believe you're getting this worked up about some stupid book I wrote. You wouldn't care if Yukiko killed him off, but you care when I do._ Yuuri shook his head and now he was angry, too.  _You don't understand._

"Oh, I understand," Viktor snapped. "I think I do. And you know what I think? I think maybe we jumped into this relationship too quick. Everything happened a little too fast, don't you think?"

Yuuri's entire body seized up. His wide eyes watered and his bottom lip trembled.  _Are you breaking up with me?_

Viktor trembled. "I think it's for the best. I think it'll be good for us. Space, that is."

Yuuri looked like he was going to throw up. Viktor felt one of his lungs tear a hole in the delicate tissue. Slowly Yuuri stood, and approached Viktor. He put a hand out, as if to touch Viktor's shoulder, but the other man pulled away. Any more of this, and he swore he would break down, emotionally and physically. "Please," Viktor said. He didn't want to do this, but killing Vincent had to mean something. "You should go home." He looked away so he wouldn't have to see the expression on his—ex-boyfriend's face.

He heard a deep, shuddering, shaky, wet sigh. Yuuri cleared his throat. Then he slowly moved past Viktor to the door. He didn't turn around and Viktor watched his back slump to the exit. He didn't turn around and he slipped on his shoes and coat. He didn't turn around and he slid out the door.

It didn't make sense but Viktor hurt. A lot, too. No, no—he had to move on. If he thought about this anymore he was going to be sick.

He stood in the living room after Yuuri left for about twelve minutes, watching the light dance around the room and feeling the time go by.

It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense as hard as he thought about it. Nothing made sense and he'd be damned if it was supposed to.

Was it supposed to?


	9. we forgot each other's names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey howdy hey. We're almost there boiz. One more chapter after this. The finale a p p r o a c h e s . Hope you like this slightly disorienting act where Viktor thinks a lot and uses his noodle.  
> (If u can correctly guess the novel briefly being discussed by the two ladies in the first half of this chap, I will personally ship one handmade pretzel right to ur door.)  
> Have a good weekend y'all. Take care of yourselves. You are important and I luv u. (´ε｀*)

**ACT 9**

_we forgot each other's names_

* * *

"—but I'm so  _bored_ ," Viktor whined.

"Shh…"

"It's too quiet in here."

"Shh _."_

"I'm sorry, but I—"

" _Shh!"_

Viktor frowned. "You're not even listening."

Georgi inhaled sharply through his nose and placed a bookmark in his book. He was reading Yukiko again.  _Again._ Viktor had thrown away the thick-paged draft Yuuri had kindly borrowed to him in anger. "Alright. You have my attention. What do you want?"

"I just—" Viktor plopped his face between his palms. "It's boring in here."

Georgi turned his nose up at that comment. "I gave you a job in a library but  _books_  are boring to you?"

Viktor sighed. "Books aren't boring to me. They used to be, but—not anymore." He flicked his eyes to the sultry black book cover under Georgi's hands. "I'm just saying it's quiet in here."

His Russian companion rolled his lovely blue eyes and returned to his book. "It's a library, not a nightclub."

"Yeah, I know, but still."

"Viktor, why don't you make yourself busy and reorganize the mystery section."

Boring. So  _boring._ Viktor sighed loudly, but he did as he was told. He was about to leave the front desk but his eyes landed on Georgi's book yet again. "The third book is coming out soon, you know."

"What?" In an instant, Viktor had Georgi's wide-eyed, flushed-cheeked attention. Georgi put his book down and clutched Viktor's arm. "It is? When? Where did you hear that?"

"Yeah, it is. Not sure when but apparently it's almost done." Viktor shrugged. The doors creaked open, and two attractive women walked through. Both of them looked his way as they entered. Viktor offered them a silky smile and a wave. They smiled and waved back and scurried to the other end of the library.

" _Hello?_ Where did you hear that, Viktor? Has it been confirmed? But I haven't received any updates from her blog! Perhaps there was an error with the emails? No, I know I am still subscribed...or did I unsubscribe accidentally? I don't want to be the last person to know about this…!"

Viktor almost felt for Georgi's enthusiasm. It was a shame he is going to be disappointed with Yuuri's final installment. He shrugged again. "I read it somewhere. On the internet."

Georgi moaned like he was in physical pain. "Then it is probably not true. Oh, you got my hopes up for nothing...though I hope she really will publish soon…" He let go of Viktor's arm to clutch his book to his chest and whimper.

Viktor took Georgi's advice and wandered off towards the mystery section. There was not much disorganization since Georgi was fairly adamant about things being in order. Which was a shame because now Viktor was back to having nothing to do.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and slowly strolled around, dipping in between the bookshelves and looking at books he hadn't seen before, books that had just been sent in. He flipped through a few of them but nothing caught his attention. He had a feeling if Yuuri were here, he'd be recommending great novels right here right now.

Oh. Yuuri…sweet Yuuri.

Viktor wanted to chuck a book at his own head.

He continued on, ignoring the non-fiction and perusing the young adult section until he came across the romance. He peeked into the area and saw the two women from earlier. Not wanting to intrude on their quiet conversation, he inched a bit closer, pretending to be interested in the other cheesy  _nothingness_ that filled the pages of the rest of these so-called 'romances'. He took a few off the shelf and read a few pages or a few lines but yet again he was caught in a place where his eyes ran over words that his brain didn't process. Nobody had the same artistic, creative, enchanting  _flow_ in their writing like Yuuri did. Nobody could compare. None of these authors captured his interest like Yuuri did…

Viktor sighed.

"—it's so sad…"

"Is it? I don't think so—"

"—well, any death in any book is sad—"

"—Depends who died."

"—the cancer came back. And he was doing so well…"

"Well, it's not like he could have controlled it."

"Still…"

Viktor pretended to read but listened as best as he could to the women.

"—she loved him so much…"

"And then the cancer had to come back—"

"—just after they came back from Europe."

"They're just  _kids—"_

"Awful. Yes. Awful."

Viktor thought he knew which book they were talking about; Yuuri might have said something about it once or twice. Without thinking, he carefully approached the girls.

"It's so sad, isn't it?" he said. They both turned to him quickly, alarmed. "When a character you love suddenly dies. It's horrible."

The taller brunette cleared her throat. "Yes, we were just discussing that."

"It's really sad," the shorter, slightly plump blonde said.

"Yeah," Viktor sighed. "Have you ever cried from a character dying in a book before?"

"Oh, totally—" the blonde sighed back.

"Not cried— _sobbed,_ more like it," the brunette said, her head jerking up and down rapidly.

"Sobbed, yeah, for sure," the blonde said.

"It's horrible! I had to cancel a coffee date one time because I decided to read  _Me Before You_  the night before," the brunette carried on. "Oh, God have mercy, I told Carol here never to go to Switzerland!"

Carol giggled. "Sue, you're always a drama queen. I read the book, too, and it was just awful."

"I won't spoil it for you," Sue said. "because it really got me good."

"It got me good, too! Patrick even saw me crying."

Sue turned to Carol. "He did? And what did he do?"

Carol put her fists on her waist. "He told Diane, what do you expect?"

"Oh, dear—"

"Luckily she'd just gotten off her shift. Otherwise, God knows what that woman would say." Carol wiped her fingers under her eyes before lowering her head to scuffle through her purse.

Viktor had no idea what they were talking about. Truthfully, he wasn't all too interested, either. His smile wavered a bit, nervously. "Right...well. I was just asking because...I'm going through that right now." He folded his arms across his chest.

"Oh, you poor thing." Sue put a hand on his bicep. "We've all been there. Don't be afraid to let it all out."

"Which book was it?" Carol asked.

Viktor hesitated slightly. "Ah... _Of Mice and Men."_

"Ahh," said both women at the same time.

"Amazing book," said Carol.

"Very sad," said Sue. "Read it in high school and it broke my heart."

"Honey, even my  _husband_  cried over it," Carol told Viktor.

Sue gasped. "What? Jared did? You never told me that!"

"Yep. I tell you over and over again, that man might look like he can wrestle with a bear, but he's a real softie, I'll tell ya."

Viktor sighed. Was he just wasting his time talking to these women? "I think it was really unfair and silly that Lennie had to die like that. He did one mistake and then…"

Both women sighed and nodded and put their hands on his shoulders, patting them reassuringly.

Then Carol said: "Well, I don't think it was that unfair if you ask me."

Both Viktor and Sue turned to stare in disbelief at her. " _Car_ -ol _,"_ Sue clearly enunciated. "How could you say that? This young man is hurt and you're not exactly making it better!" Viktor could kiss this woman.

Carol frowned and brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, jutting her hip forward sassily. "I'm sorry but this needs to be said. Would ya think about it for a sec?" She huffed and puffed and smoothed down her blouse. "Don't you think he died in a nice way?"

"But—George killed him," Viktor whispered. "That's not nice. That's, like,  _betrayal."_

"No!"

"Yeah, Carol, he's right," said Sue nasally. "He betrayed him."

"No, no, no,  _listen!_ Imagine what would've happened if George didn't kill 'im. Think about it. The other dudes would've killed him themselves, especially that Curley fellow. Maybe they would've tortured him. Maybe they would've stabbed him, or beat him up, or broke his bones, or peeled the skin from his body."

" _Ew!_ Carol!" Sue cried. As if remembering they were in a library, her voice dropped to a whisper. " _Ew!"_ She squeezed Viktor's shoulder.

Carol smiled. "Well, it's true, isn't it? Think about it. Poor Lennie woulda been hurt a lot more and George wouldn't have been able to protect him. You gotta save your best friend somehow, don't you?"

Viktor blanked out for a moment.

Sue shook her head swiftly. "No, Carol, I don't think that's right."

"Prove me wrong," Carol challenged.

That—made sense. It made sense. To him, it made sense that Lennie died if it only happened because George was trying to save him from being in pain. It made sense that if anyone was to kill Lennie, it'd be George because they're best friends and—George would do anything to protect him.

It wasn't betrayal. It was mercy. George did a heroic deed, even if it meant killing his best friend.

Suddenly, it made sense.

Carol and Sue were still arguing about whether it was fair or not. Viktor slipped from under Sue's hand and forced a smile when they looked at him questioningly. "Thank you, ladies. I feel a lot better now. You helped a lot." He flashed them a million-watt, celebrity smile.

Carol blushed. Sue smiled giddily. "Of course, honey. Thanks for coming by to chat with us."

They waved at him as he made his way back to the counter, back to Georgi. His companion's face was buried in Yuuri's book, his eyes swiping over the small print at an incredible speed.

"Everything makes sense now," Viktor announced. "Everything."

Georgi lifted his head. Viktor grabbed his face and planted a big kiss on his cheek, before hopping around the counter to stand next to him.

"What," Georgi said. "was that."

"It all makes sense," Viktor said. "I think I get it now."

"Okay," Georgi said, confused. "Great."

* * *

Gatsby, Gatsby, Gatsby. He turned to look out the window and saw a yellow car.

Why did Gatsby die?

Why, why, why.  _Pochemu?_ He chewed his thumb and thought about it. He was determined to think of something.

And thought

and

thought

and

thought.

 _The American Dream._ He visualized Yuuri signing those three words to him.  _The American Dream._

He worked so hard to get to the woman he loved, but he was too late, and everything he tried doing for her ended up being in vain. Gatsby's death symbolizes an important and idealistic goal many Americans had during the 1920s during the Great Depression, but many failed to achieve it. It made sense.

"The pursuit of happiness," Viktor whispered. It made sense.

He wrote that down in his notebook.  _THE FAILURE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM._

The light danced around the room, sinewy and airy and tangling and graceful. The light crawled across his face and painted warm, light-coloured spider legs on his hands.

Spider. Spider. Spider.

What about the sweet spider lady from  _Charlotte's Web?_  Why did she die?

He breathed in slowly and exhaled slowly. And thought.  _What did it all mean?_

 _Spiders don't live very long in nature,_ Yuuri had said to him once as foreshadowing.

The circle of life. It's a cruel irony how she used a large portion of her life protecting Wilbur from being slaughtered since he would've had a short life were it not for her writing about him in her web.

Viktor wrote that down, too.

And he wasn't upset. With every fleeting second that passed, the more he thought about it and the more the words from the pages lifted like leaves into the air and poured into his brain and sat and became fermented wine for his mind, the less and less he felt the cold stab of sadness and agony from the death of these beloved characters. Because it made sense, just like Yuuri had told him over a million times. But Viktor hadn't listened to him. Not until now.

He rolled over on his bed and looked out the window again. He traced a crack in the glass and then his chin was propped up on his upturned palm and the other hand, holding the pencil, tapped the end of it lazily against the notebook.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of enlightenment.

* * *

He plucked an apple off the counter and spun it between his fingers. A Golden Delicious.

"Johnny was a hero," he said. "He jumped into the fire to save the children's lives. He died because his injuries were too severe and too painful. He would have been crippled from the waist down, had he survived." He spun the apple some more and the tips of his delicate fingers traced the hard, stiff stalk. "Dally wasn't a hero. He was reckless and selfish and he couldn't handle death, either. So he put himself in the middle of it in a fit of adrenaline, anger, and sadness, and that led to his demise." He ran his thumb over the smooth apple's skin. "He was  _guilty_  that Johnny died. Johnny meant so much to him that if such a sweet, heroic boy like his friend Johnny died, then so would he." He lifted the apple to his lips and took a big bite.

In the other room, Chris watched from his ajar door, green eyes wide as he pressed the phone to his ear. "He's doing it again," he whispered in French. "Talking to himself. I'm worried about him. Fourth time this week…"

* * *

The death of Piggy is more metaphorical, Viktor figured as he walked down the sidewalk. He stopped to peruse through the local street vendors tents, running his gaze over shiny bright fruit hidden underneath a sheer layer of insecticide. Piggy was too smart, he figured. He was the voice of reason. He was intelligent and spoke the truth, and yet.

And yet. Viktor retracted his hand and continued down the street. An older woman beckoned him over to buy her bright and soft afghans but he politely refused. He carried on his way but he did stop at the book sale.

And yet, none of the boys listened. They were wild and uncivilized. The other boys were better than Piggy because they survived but somehow they were beneath Piggy because of their lack of reason. So Piggy had to die. The voice of reason gets buried in the dirt beneath an untamed society.

Viktor bought the book  _The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime_ for three dollars, and  _Life of Pi_  for two.  _(A steal,_ Yuuri would say, and his eyes would light up, too.)

A man in a pressed suit that hugged every hard curve of his body stared down at everyone including Viktor as they walked beneath the billboard he was featured on. His frosty pale eyes stared and stared and stared. And watched. Like TJ Eckleburg, Viktor thought. Or Big Brother.

Winston  _did_  die, in a sense—his psychological being did, at least, and change for the worst it did. The vagueness of the final chapter made Viktor wonder if Winston ended up being executed for being a rebel, or if he assimilated and became a mindless robot well enough to pass by. Maybe Viktor will turn into a mindless robot, too, he thought as he scratched at the hollow of his neck and felt a desire to buy the handsome, pale-eyed  _God figure from the billboard's_  watch.

He adjusted his bag of books and bought a bag of cherries for Chris and thought:  _Rats truly are disgusting._

* * *

The leaves had browned and oranged and yellow beneath his feet and crunched under his weight. Things were much different than the last time Viktor saw Yuuri, when the grass was green and the wind was gentle and the water of the river only gave him mild hypothermia when he was pushed in. Now Viktor could hardly take a stroll without a light coat on.

But today was the day, so he'd heard from Georgi. And today he must go out.

And go out he did, with his dignity in one hand and self-consciousness in the other.

In the bookstore, he smiled at the young woman who placed a courtesy bookmark between the pages of his new book.

THE SOLDIER AND THE DIAMOND

PART 3 OF 3 OF THE "Dreaming of Jewels" SERIES

_Kamata Yukiko_

Viktor exited the place with an empty wallet, hungry for the story Yuuri had decided on.


	10. today is a gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! (・ωｰ)  
>  This is where Viktor and Yuuri's story ends. We've finally reached the last chapter.  
> Please enjoy.

**ACT 10**

_today is a gift_

* * *

There were no words to describe the hollow and dreary cocoon of Viktor's heart as it crumbled and fell apart and landed in the crevices between his ribs.

In one sitting he'd finished this book, front to back, left to right, up and down and inside out. One sitting was all it took, and the early morning was when the final page was turned. Viktor's brain had shut down and its hard-drive was wiped clean.

And it made sense. Even though it still hurt. And he was stupid.

It was nearly 10 AM on one Tuesday morning in the middle of September and it marks three months since Yuuri last walked out of the apartment. Six months of emotion and heartbreak and gloom and ignorance and Viktor was the stupidest man on the planet and he was stupid and stupid and stupid and he felt horrible.

_Horrible_ like the taste of Chris' weird medicine, or  _horrible_ like the smell of concentrated ammonia, and  _horrible_ like everything Viktor felt, right now. He was horrible. And he couldn't go on like this.

But worst has come to worst and best has come to best and so he knew what he had to do. He figured if he thought about it long and hard enough it might even sink in as some kind of  _destiny,_ an ideology he revered but one that Yuuri couldn't care less about. But what does it matter now? He tried to capture this deep, profound embarrassment and shame in a glass jar like a butterfly, but the jar slipped through his fingers and away it flew. It flew far but maybe if he willed his hands as far as it flew then maybe he could capture it.

Which is what brought him here. The blue bungalow with the beautiful rugs and fireplace and chairs. The house surely belonging to a doctor or a lawyer.

He ascended the stairs with his wet moist hands and hoped his fingers wouldn't stain the pages of this precious text. His knees buckled and his throat clenched and he was  _nervous._ For how long had it been since he was here last?—let's just call it forever. The guilt spilled into his toes. The world's his fucking oyster so he rang the doorbell.

In his mind's eye he could see every movement Yuuri would take, to pad down the hallway from his elaborate bedroom with feet stuffed in socks stuffed in sandals stuffed in Viktor's mouth—well. It's where they should be, at least, to prevent him from saying anything even more stupid. He may or may not have had a script and he couldn't remember if he planned some words but he was ready and willing to taste the scratchy socks on his tongue and tickle the roof of his mouth, because honestly? That sounds better than talking.

And the door creaked open.

The Golden Boy himself stood there, beautiful like the Mona Lisa frozen in time. His soft eyes were heavy and the contours of his smooth face were rosy and his socked feet were in sandals. His expression changed from startled to confused to unsure to guarded. His long author's fingers clutched the edge of the door and he looked very, very young at this very moment. His  _sweet, subtle beauty_ never failed to fill Viktor's heart.

They looked at each other. And Viktor wanted to be a crumpled leaf beneath his own shoe.

Yuuri sucked his lips between his teeth for a second and he was hesitant, very hesitant.  _Hello...can I help you?_

Viktor's lips parted slightly and his tongue sat weighing ten pounds in his mouth. He set his trembling chin and set his jaw and he would be brave for maybe two minutes before he swore he would disappear into the bushes under the window. He lifted the book up and flipped to the last page, page 394. He cleared his throat. The world's his oyster. He read out loud the last paragraph.

"'When he stepped out into the glistening road and watched his friends—his best friends, to be precise—walk down the shimmery cement with their arms linked and laughter intertwined, he felt emotion drag its course through his body down into his toes. Something told him he wasn't allowed to feel this way; the grand writer of the rules of the world said so. When he watched the man and the woman trace their toes in the sand and grasp each other's hands and feel raw, unsolicited, uncensored love, he was happy. He was happy and that made the jealous rule-writer angry, but he soon came to the realization that he didn't much care about the things 'that were supposed to be' in the 'ways they were supposed to happen'. Maybe it was the idea that he, too, felt this way, at another point in time, and two other human beings were fortunate enough to feel the exact same way. Or maybe it was the promise that Vincent was waiting for him in some divine atmosphere beyond this planet, ready to resume and proliferate this sensation over and over and over until the final candles extinguished. Whatever it was, Roman was grateful for it. The rain stretched into his veins and he had never felt so ethereal.'"

Viktor's hands shook even though he'd read these words already just nine hours ago, and nine minutes ago in the car. He felt embarrassed and he was worried his voice was hoarse and timid even though Yuuri couldn't hear it anyway and maybe he was lucky, in that sense.

When he looked up, the rosy pigment in Yuuri's cheeks had spread to the tip of his nose, and beneath his eyes. Yuuri watched him with soft eyes and the shield between the two men slowly lowered.

Viktor's heart throbbed. "This," he croaked, pointing at the words. "spoke to me. This made me feel something I've never felt before. I'm in  _physical pain."_

Yuuri's eyes narrowed. Suddenly and very clearly irritated, he raised his hands to speak, but Viktor stopped him just in the nick of time. "It's not what you think. I'm...I'm not sad. Or upset." He closed the book and gently put it in his bag. He swallowed the wad in his throat and Yuuri kept looking at him.

"I'm happy," he whispered and signed while doing so for Yuuri's sake. "I'm so, so, so happy you wrote it this way and didn't change anything. I'm happy Vincent died because it's a metaphor for life. We can't always get what we want and it sucks but love—never stops," he said. "Roman believes he will be with Vincent in another life, and that gives him hope so it gives me hope, too. Even if it's not true, it's—it's the concept—" He fumbled with his words now;  _God,_ it was so much easier when he talked to himself. "The  _idea_ is what really counts. And I think they really are in love, so it'll be even sweeter the next time they meet. I know they will."

His chest swelled with certainty. "Their souls will find each other one day, and they can be reunited. And they can be happy together, forever." He smiled sadly and was he about to cry? "Yuuri, your books mean so much to me, and I'm so glad I got to read them. The time we spent apart was really—really hard, and...I just wanted to tell you I miss you, and…" Now he really was crying; streams came down both cheeks and gathered at his jaw, before free-falling to the ground. "—I'm sorry. I was being really stupid when I said all those things to you. I don't know what possessed me to think…" He shook his head in a few jerky movements. He wiped at his face and sniffed. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I just wanted to say that. I'll, uh…" He motioned back towards his car. "Okay. Nice seeing you again."

His emotions had gotten the better of him. Again. Defeated, his shoulders scrunched up to his ears and he turned on his heel and made it back down the stairs.

A hand on his elbow. He whipped around.

Yuuri stood there, his  _wide, endlessly patient_ eyes moist. He only allowed his bottom lip to quiver for half a second before his fingers closed around Viktor's wrist and tugged.

And Yuuri  _yanked yanked yanked_ him into his arms, and he held him, tightly, passionately, warmly.

Viktor held on and held his breath. The warmth of Yuuri's body heated his fingers straight down to his core. In a moment, his arms reciprocated the embrace and he held onto the sweet, intelligent, talented body of the young man he's so desperately craved for the past...for too long, at the very least.

They pulled slightly apart. Their breaths mingled and intertwined like silk laces. Yuuri's palms smoothed across Viktor's cheeks and Viktor almost sobbed. The tears were delicately brushed away by soft thumbs and Viktor filled with love as thick as syrup.

Yuuri was so beautiful. The wind tousled his midnight hair and he was like an angel. He  _was_  an angel, Viktor was sure of it. Yuuri smiled and the world stopped to stare at the mesmerizing sight.

_You're not stupid,_ Yuuri said finally.  _Just lazy._ There was a twinkle in his eye.

Viktor leaned in and kissed Yuuri hard.

A soft, shuddering little sigh escaped Yuuri's throat and Viktor swallowed it down just to kiss him more. Their lips slowly moved against each other's, shallow at first, then deep and emotive and everything Viktor needed. Yuuri was his angel. An angel with mismatched socks. An angel who has never heard a whisper, or a shout, or the sound of rain, or the sound of static, or a note of music. An angel who used words better than people could ever say them. An angel who stole Viktor's heart and had no intentions of returning it—not that Viktor wanted it back.

But an angel nonetheless.

They parted after a couple millennia and the blush on Yuuri's cheeks made Viktor's insides stir and he had to stave off the heat collecting in the pit of his stomach. And Yuuri was still shy and nervous and he pushed his glasses up as they were slipping down his nose. It seemed as though he was ready to take a step back, disturb the contact between his and Viktor's bodies, but Viktor held his hips and kept him in place. He'd never let Yuuri go; not again, not in this lifetime or the next.

_I'm sorry, too,_ Yuuri said meekly.  _You were right that I should have told you about the ending ahead of time, I should have asked you what you thought about it and how you felt about it but I wasn't thinking and I thought it'd be okay—_

Viktor pushed Yuuri's dark bangs aside gently, and it was like they suddenly were transported to that one day at the pond, that one day in spring. "It  _was_  okay," he promised. "It was more than okay. It was everything I could have asked for and more."

Yuuri blossomed.  _Really_?

Viktor smiled. "Yes."

Yuuri cupped his face and kissed him again, and again, and again. Viktor's hands squeezed his hips and Yuuri's mouth tasted like strawberries.

They kissed in the orange and yellow and brown world where words grew and were harvested from the ground, and where stories were engraved in the barks of the trees. The light danced across their feet and on their shoulders and knees.

And Yuuri said he loved him. Viktor decided that was his most favourite thing, Yuuri's lips brushing against his ear as he slowly mouthed the words  _I love you_  against his skin.

Viktor had never felt more ethereal.

* * *

"Two sugars, two creams?"

_Yes, please._

Yurio grunted but jotted down the order. He looked pissed, so why do his cheeks get flushed every time Yuuri comes around? Viktor smiled.

_Has he been practicing his ASL?_ Yuuri asked the second Yurio disappeared.

"I'm not sure. He seems to be picking up on it rather quickly, don't you think?"

_I agree. He's a quick learner._ Yuuri smiled.  _I wonder what got him interested in learning my language?_

Viktor rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I wonder what it  _possibly_  could be."

Yurio returned within thirty seconds and gingerly placed the mug in front of Yuuri. "Here."

Yuuri smiled very sweetly up at him, sweeter than usual.  _Thank you so much._

Yurio went bright red at the smile. He nodded slowly. "You're...welcome." Viktor could practically smell the admiration dripping off the teen even as he desperately tried to cover the huge crush he had on Yuuri.

Then Yurio's gaze drifted down to Yuuri's lips and Viktor cleared his throat loudly. "Alright, Yurio, that's enough. Don't get distracted now," he teased. "That's  _my_  boyfriend you're drooling over."

Yurio's back straightened like a snap-flex and his cheeks were red red red and he  _so_ had a crush on Yuuri. He huffed and puffed and reverted back to being a moody, grouchy teen. "Fuck you, asshole. Eat shit and fuck off," he growled, snarling in Viktor's direction. He directed the snarl at Yuuri. "Fuck you, too." Embarrassed and blushing, Yurio sped off back into the kitchen.

Yuuri laughed his sweet, throaty, tiny laugh.  _Did he say what I think he said?_

"Not surprisingly," Viktor sighed. "yes."

Yuuri hummed and shrugged.  _Teenagers,_ he said simply, and sipped his coffee.

Viktor watched him for a few moments, not saying anything. He watched the way the light from the window cast into his eyes and made them shine a lighter shade of brown.

After he'd apologized to Chris and they'd made up, finally, Chris had said something peculiar. "I think you two have what the Chinese would describe as a  _yuanfen,"_ he'd said. "because I have never seen two people more destined to meet and fall in love with one another." This time, Viktor believed him and the foreign vocabulary that always seemed to describe some way Viktor felt. Perhaps it wasn't complete bullshit after all.

Yuuri looked at him, then, his fingers tapping lightly against his mug. He tilted his head and his smile was soft.  _What is it?_

Viktor shook his head.

_No, tell me._

Viktor shrugged.

_You look like you have something to say. You can ask me anything, you know._

"Really? Anything?"

_Anything._

Viktor took a deep breath and filled his lungs. He bit his lip and debated internally—should he ask?

Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him. "Do you ever wish you could hear?"

Yuuri's face dropped slightly but he didn't seem upset. Instead, he tipped his chin up thoughtfully, and he appeared to think about it. His gaze drew out the window for a moment.

He turned back to Viktor and nodded.  _Well, of course. There are a lot of times I wish I could hear. Sometimes it's not easy being deaf, and sometimes I think about how nice it'd be to fit in for once and be part of the majority who can hear._ He paused to trace the rim of his mug with his finger, his eyes downcast. Suddenly Viktor felt guilty for asking such a thing.

Then Yuuri smiled and lifted his head.  _But I wouldn't want to be a hearing person forever,_ he said.  _I think being deaf has become a big part of my identity, and if I were to suddenly lose that, then I'd be a different person. I love being deaf._ He grinned.

Viktor raised his eyebrows. "You do?"

_Yes, of course. I know people don't like to hear that, but it's true. I love my life._  Yuuri's face tinged pink and his entire body language softened.  _I got to meet you this way, didn't I?_

Viktor's face flooded with a gentle warmth. "You're right." He reached across the table for Yuuri's hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss it gently. "And for that, I am very thankful."

Viktor would stay with Yuuri when he writes his next book, and when he won't write his next book, and every single moment in between.

The murmured conversations of the café crept into the corners of the evening.

* * *

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to everyone who read, commented, bookmarked, and/or gave kudos. Thank you for your endless support. You guys rock.  
> Write what you want to write. You should never feel obligated to write in a way you don't want to. Don't force yourself to conform to what everyone else wants. It's your story. Write for yourself and you'll learn to love writing.  
> I love u all. Thank you thank you thank you for reading this lil story.  
> (Sequel? Hmm... (｀▽´) )


End file.
